


Spectre of Fire

by redfenix



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, redshipper, the bitch is back, the one that started it all, x3 denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-07
Updated: 2007-07-07
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 64,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfenix/pseuds/redfenix





	1. The Ghost of You

He awoke to an icy stillness hanging heavy in the room. His breath visible as he took measured breaths in and out, wondering silently if Bobby’s powers had gotten the best of him again. Last time the kid had a nightmare, most of the occupants of the mansion had to be treated for hypothermia. Pushing away the sheets, he lifted them, preparing to rise from the bed only to be inexplicably brought up short by a blinding flash of white that knocked him back onto the bed. 

A diaphanous shape hung overhead, the outline of a body opaque but blinding. His eyes adjusted to the change in light and he fought against the urge to rub his eyes in disbelief. He wondered momentarily, as he stared at the ceiling of his room through the figure, if he should be panicking now. Shouldn’t he be preparing to vault himself off the bed and away from the ghostly figure? 

The figure changed slightly, coming into crystal clear focus and he realized why he was just lying there dumbly staring at this supposed ghost. 

 _Jean._  

Swearing at first he imagined it, he blinked when her fingertips grazed lightly through the hair on his unshaven cheeks as she had done before. Surely if she were a ghost, she wouldn’t be able to touch him. The air escaped from between his lips, becoming visible as he blew out the puff, trying to sort out reality from illusion. 

He remembers her, remembers what it was like to feel the touch of her skin against his, he realizes. Reasons that why he is not more astounded about this than he already is. A strangled laugh bubbled deep inside of his chest when he thought that certainly even he was allowed a moment, a mere instant at least, of insanity. Especially when one is faced with the realization that there was a ghostly figure of the woman he had secretly loved for years floating in mid-air above him, looking like some windswept damsel in distress. 

He imagined those fingertips of course, possibly a repressed memory about her skin sliding so casually over his. Or even a memory he had unknowingly kept tucked away surfacing at the most inopportune of times. There was no other logical explanation. 

There were a lot of things in this fucked up world he believed in, but paranormal activity wasn’t at the top of the list. It definitely pushed even his broad belief in the unknown. 

Her silvery fingers trailed down his chest and to his amazement continued further downward, not even minutely disturbing the navy blue sheets that covered him. He felt her hand close around him and he pressed his head back onto the pillow, a sharp burst of air escaping through his teeth. A cornucopia of light swirled behind his eyes as pleasure spiked out from somewhere deep inside of him when he felt her hand alternately flexing and releasing. 

This had to be the best dream he had ever had. Sure as hell beat all those nightmares that tended to plague him persistently night after night. 

A smile curved the side of his mouth up and he slid his hands up to cradle behind his head. 

Yep, best damn dream ever. 

The whisper of her laughter sounded through the room and he was slammed back into what was happening when he felt a tight constricting around the most sensitive part of his body. The vise that was her hand clenched painfully and had him automatically batting at her without thinking in an effort to get her to release him. His hand passed easily through hers. She literally had him by the balls. 

This was his dream, dammit, and certainly not the way he wanted things to be going when he had a dream about Jean. His mind fought frantically to regain the images in his brain but she, apparently, wasn’t having any of that. He kept his eyes tightly screwed shut trying to find a moment where he was comfortable with all of this. To where she had at least been making him forget that she was a ghost hanging a few inches over him. To where sheer bliss overruled blind panic. 

No such luck.

“You’re dead.”  His voice was flat and unemotional, a struggle for him at the moment. 

“You know better than that.” Her throaty voice echoed in his head, the lips on the ghostly figure overhead immobile. 

“No. I saw it with my own eyes.” Those hazel eyes opened now, the realization blooming that no matter what he thought, this really was happening. He was talking to a ghost. A ghost who was denying she was even dead in the first place. Despite his acceptance, he remained just a bit skeptical. It had gotten him through much tougher situations before. “I watched you die.” 

“You saw what you wanted to see at the time.” He watched a smile spread across her face, slowly at first, the emotions of the experience flooding back into the moment. 

His sorrow, her joy. 

The smile lit her eyes with an unearthly yellow glow as she remembered. If that was even possible, to see a fire burning in someone’s eyes who was hanging over you in the traditional see through fashion. Grimacing, he shifted uncomfortably under her hand.  She released her grip on him then, his attention on her so complete, convinced he wasn’t dreaming at all, so focused, that she no longer needed to maintain her contact with his skin. 

Sorrow replaced the joy in her eyes, silver tears consuming the fire that had ignited in the depths of them. “I had more faith in you than that Logan.” 

“It’s not possible.” He repeated. His brain still searching frantically for some easy explanation. There had to be one;  just had to. There had to be some proof that things were not what they seemed. 

“Oh, I assure you.” Her fingertips trailed lightly across his stomach, causing him to flinch at being tickled. “It is entirely possible. I’m here aren’t I?” 

“Are you?” 

“I need your help. I need you to come find me and bring me back to where I belong.” 

“I don’t even know where to start.” This was insane. He had cracked during a particularly viscous nightmare and had lost it completely, he was sure of it. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for.” Had he just said that? Had he just unconsciously acknowledged that he was going to go on some wild goose chase because some ghost had felt him up? 

“Start where the moon meets the shore Logan.” 

The words spun in his head, further adding to his confusion. “What?” 

“To where the blue light was shadowed.” 

Her fingers trailed over his cheek once again leaving a river of chills racing down his back as realization dawned. Brushing the thoughts aside he got back to the point at hand. “What do I look for?” 

The light she was emitting in the room began fading. “Find me please.” The last words trailed off softly, pleading in the inky darkness of his room. The ghostly figure that had been Jean faded completely; leaving him alone once again. He rose tentatively from the bed and stood staring at the now empty room in disbelief. Her words echoed back through his head. Where the moon met the shore and a new beginning was on the horizon huh? 

He snorted as he crossed the room and shook out a pair of jeans from the stack of clothes on the chair.  Leave it to Jean to be cryptic, even when she dead and vividly appearing in his delusions as a poltergeist.  He splashed cold water over his face in the bathroom and scowled at the reflection staring back at him. 

He really was losing it. 

He stepped back into his room as he was scrubbing a towel over his face and suddenly came up short when he saw what sat on the foot of his bed. 

A single shaft of light from the bathroom illuminated a thin patch on his bed. A patch where his knapsack sat, fully packed with his clothes. His leather jacket lay on the bed next to it, ready and waiting for him to put it on.  The towel dropped to the floor, forgotten and he frantically searched through his brain trying to ascertain what was going on. He didn’t remember packing his clothes in the bag before entering the bathroom. He didn’t, did he? 

He replayed his movements from the moment he rose from the bed and couldn’t account for even a few spare seconds where he could have shoved some clothes into the bag. Fingering the zipper on the bag, he wondered where exactly reality had taken a backseat to the Twilight Zone.  The teeth of the metal sounded loudly in the quiet room as the metal catches slipped over each one. The clothes were neatly folded and stacked perfectly inside the bag. The three pairs of underwear he saw were even folded. 

This had to be some sort of sick cosmic joke. 

While he appreciated a hearty mystery just as much as the next guy, there were some situations where he just had to draw a line. There was a perfectly logical explanation for what was happening. There had to be. 

Ghosts didn’t just appear in someone’s room indiscriminately, wrap their hands around the intended’s private parts, spout off shady riddles, neatly fold undergarments and then just disappear. Or was he, as usual, just that one single exception to the rule that he usually ended up being?

 That would be just his luck, wouldn’t it? 

He eyed the items on the bed cautiously while he pushed his head through the neck of a dark green crew neck t-shirt and settled into a chair to lace up his favorite work boots. Memories missing from his brain weren’t a foreign concept to him. Too many pieces of his memory were missing still and he had given up all hope of capturing them back. But this was one incident that couldn’t simply be explained away.  

The need to know the truth would gnaw away at him for days, months, even years on end. What if somewhere, somehow, by some small miracle of…whatever…she was still out there? That wasn’t something he was sure that he could walk away from and just brush to the side like he usually did with everything else. 

He felt the worn cotton straps press again the flesh of his palm before fully comprehending that the bag was in his hand. 

At least he would have clean underwear this time. 

The soles of his black work boots thudded lightly against the scarred wood tiles as he made his way down the hallway to the front door.  Whispered voices and smothered giggles from a few of the student’s dorm rooms signaled to him that he wasn’t the only one awake at this late hour. 

He contemplated briefly stopping by to see Marie, let her know that he was going to be gone for a while but decided against it. She and Bobby seemed happy together, content with the way things were. He didn’t want to intrude and seem like he was checking up on her. Too brotherly. Besides, everyone was used to him taking off on a whim, so finding him missing for a few days wouldn’t raise any alarms. 

The quiet murmurs of the television set had him detouring into the main den. He expected to find some of the kids sitting in front of the television set surfing through late night channels again. What he found brought him up short. Emma’s head rested on Scott’s shoulder. Her long white blonde hair a stark contrast against his chocolate brown crew cut. They talked in hushed voices, Scott’s fingers absently tracing a light pattern at the nape of her neck. She shifted, turning her body to his and they leaned toward each other. Their lips touched and even at this distance Logan felt the sexual tension spike in the room. 

The moment was an intimate one and he felt like he’d intruded despite the fact that he hadn’t spoken a word and they hadn’t noticed him. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice another body in the room. He backed out silently, closing the door behind him carefully to prevent anyone else from just barging into the room. 

He realized now why Jean had come to him. 

She knew. 

Despite her death, she knew that Scott had moved on to other pastures. Came to terms with her passing and sought comfort in the arms of another. He figured that it had enabled Scott to sleep at night. 

“Bastard.” He said under his breath and despite his earlier efforts to remain silent so as not to disturb the occupants of the den, he slammed the front door behind him.


	2. Retrospection

There was a stop he wanted to make first. A reality check to the extraordinary events that had just occurred. He pulled up to the gates and casually swung a leg over his bike. He hesitated for a moment, trepidation traveling with the blood flowing through his veins. An owl hooted overhead, watching him as he made his way over the grounds. He stood over the stone tablet, staring down at it and read the name carved deeply into its surface. He had been here before, surrounded by a huge group of people mourning their loss. He had turned his back on them, disgusted with the overt display and glorification of Jean’s life. 

Whatever Jean was, she wasn’t that. Pomp and ceremony. False anguish and unrealistic ideals. 

It pained him to see so many overwhelmed with grief. He had stormed away, roared his motorcycle out during the middle of the service, ignoring the blatant attempts by the professor to convince him to come back. He rode his bike for miles, not caring where he ended up; so long as he blocked it all out. 

He had reappeared at the school a week later, welcomed by a stark silence and steely glares. They didn’t understand, none of them did, or ever would. Even Scott, who had his head buried so far up his ass he could probably see his sinuses only seemed slightly fazed by Jean’s death. Logan knew he had a tendency to bury himself in the work, his causes, but it was getting a little ridiculous. Though from what he’d just witnessed, there was something else Scott was burying himself in. 

He knelt, running his fingers over the rough surface of the granite. “Too many people have died on me Jean. You were supposed to be different.” 

Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a single flower, his only stop between the mansion and the gravesite. The tulip was gray in the dark of the moon but he knew the vivid white of the petals already. It was dying when he bought it, a cheap procurement from a convenience store but the meaning to himself was there. It was a flower that always reminded him of her, having come across her once out in the gardens surrounded by a spray of the delicate flowers while she tended them. 

He held that image in his mind; saw her smiling at him amid the lake of tulips. She waved a hand at him, turning back to her work, oblivious to the smear of dirt streaked down her left cheek. The vision faded, leaving him alone at the gravesite once again. He noticed a few drops of water on the surface of the pedals and lifted a hand to feel the wetness on his cheek. Swallowing hard, he rose, etching the feel of the words on the stone into his mind. 

This, finally, was his closure. Three weeks overdue but he had always done things on his own terms. He shrugged off the sorrow, scolded himself for even thinking he could come here without feeling something; some flicker of love. 

Of hope. 

She had meant too much for him not to. 

The motorcycle roared to life underneath him as he rode away from the cemetery. He could spend countless hours there questioning why she had done what she chose to do but the effort would prove useless. The results hollow when there was not an answer to be found since the only person who could answer him was dead. Wild goose chase not withstanding, he was going to see this through. Everyone else had their own way of dealing with this, washing her from their minds. He wouldn’t rest until he found the understanding he was seeking. 

Moonlight streamed down on the grave, illuminating the delicate, dying flower resting on the stone. A gentle breeze blew, rustling the wilted petals as they shifted. The dull brown tips of the petals faded subtly, merging with the faded white color of the cup. Within seconds, a vivid white hue bloomed and was accompanied by a lively green as the leaves and stem returned to their own full color. The flower reached up to the beam of moonlight with a newfound strength as it came to life. 

Basking in the energy that coursed through it now, remembering what it was like to live. The fresh possibilities. 

A new found hope. 

It was renewed with the chance to continue on in this life that it was meant to lead. 

Reborn.


	3. It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere

The pert blonde scowled as she walked away from the main bar. Logan watched her as she stalked off to lick her wounds. He would normally be open to the direct advances of some woman he met in a bar, possibly indulging in copious amounts of anonymous sex for the night, should the mood strike. Tonight was not one of those nights. 

The bartender slapped down another drink in front of him and began pouring drinks for the party of ten in the rear corner. Logan winced as the piss yellow water they were trying to pass off as beer slid down his throat and his eyes scanned the crowded dive. Prostitution was rampant here. Women with little self-esteem for themselves performed open acts of sex wherever, doing whatever. The heady scent of sex hung heavily in the air, fueling the other patrons and hookers. Currently, there was a tangle of women’s arms and legs on top of the table where the large group of men sat in rapt attention. 

And he thought the whole ghost thing was pushing his tolerance levels. 

Unfortunately, this was the only place for miles around. The lone establishment he had come across on his trek north. A roar went up from the men around the table and his attention drew back to the lousy beer in front of him, interest lost. He was still questioning what exactly he was doing. Blindly heading towards somewhere he wasn’t even sure existed anymore. To find someone who was supposedly dead no less. 

His first good lead had pulled in front of him on the highway the previous day. A transport Jeep he pulled up on had a small circular sticker on its rear bumper. He recognized the marking, having become familiar with it just a month previous when he had come face to face with the man who claimed to be responsible for his adamantium grafting process. 

He had tailed the vehicle here and watched the men dressed in fatigues exit the Jeeps. Those same men now surrounded the table with the women writhing in sexual ecstasy. He paid the barest of attention to the men, his only concern not of what they were doing, only of when they would leave. 

He brushed off the advances of another hooker and jerked his head at the bartender, signaling that he was switching to a table. Passing the group of men the stench of alcohol was overwhelming. He scowled as he passed and silently made his way to the table in the darkened corner. One of the men wildly waved his arms in the air, trying to flag down one of the waitresses. After about ten minutes of arguing who would take the table, one approached the table cautiously. 

Logan’s fingers automatically clenched when the man grabbed the waitress and swung her down onto his lap. He groped her openly, not caring about their surroundings. Egged on by his teammates, he grew even rougher with the woman, her cries of protest only seeming to further cause him to paw wildly at her. His muscles tensed under the surface of his skin, tightening in preparation to stand up and cross to the men, but he was hastily brought to a halt as one of the beefy bouncers crossed the room and jerked the woman from the soldier’s lap. 

“I think it best if you boys be on your way.” 

The offending soldier scowled his lip, curling into a sneer. “I think it best if you just shut your mouth.” 

A number of bouncers appeared behind the original one and several soldiers stood up, their creaky chairs sighing in relief at the loss of the weight. 

The only sounds in the bar were the hushed murmurs of nearly every patron in the establishment focusing their attention to the rear of the bar. Nearly everyone, but only because the two women writhing around on the table continued, oblivious to any conflict going on around them. 

It was almost comical. 

Logan settled back in his chair, pushing back so that only two legs supported him and extracted a cigar from his pocket. He quietly snapped open his Zippo and lit the tobacco, tasting the sickly sweet smoke. A cloud of smoke obscured his face from the crowd but allowed him to still hear what was going on. The men trashed talked, slinging insults back and forth. It became so heated the young man at the head of the pack lifted his hands to lay them on the bouncers chest. The most sober of the group seemed to realize this was a bad idea and grabbed the man’s arms. He flailed his arms, cursing at his friend who was restraining him but saw something in the bouncer’s eyes that brought him to a screeching halt. 

The group at the table hastily sat down in their chairs and turned their attention back to the activities in front of them on the table, ignoring the men standing over them. 

Logan waved at the smoke around him in an effort to see more clearly. He couldn’t clearly ascertain what was happening from this distance, but something sure spooked the men. Must have been something pretty damn intimidating considering all the firepower that sat under that table. One of the bouncers passed his table and the answer suddenly became clear. 

Mutants. 

Looking more closely around him now, he noticed nearly everyone in the bar were mutants. The soldiers seemed to realize this at the same moment he did as they rose to make a hasty exit. 

One of the men approached the bartender and meekly asked for their tab. The man snarled at the young man and Logan could visibly see the man shaking. So much for soldiers for the cause. 

Interest lost, he dropped a ten onto the sticky tabletop and ground his cigar into the ashtray to extinguish it.  As he passed the soldier’s table he watched one of the women execute a particularly agile move that sent the other women screaming over the edge. He’d have to remember that one sometime. 

“Buddy, you actually going gonna pay your bill or you trying to stiff me?” The bartender snarled out at the man in front of him. 

Logan slowed as he passed, watching the man sheepishly dip his head and hand over the correct card. The passcode card he had mistakenly handed the man disappeared into a spare pocket of the man’s fatigues. If he had needed any further proof of who he was following, he’d just gotten it. 

Speeding up his steps, he quickly left the bar and vaulted himself onto his motorcycle. Roaring out of the parking lot in a spray of gravel, he turned north once again. 

He knew exactly where the men were heading, and where he was going now. He realized belatedly however, that there was one thing he still needed. Frowning, he slowed his bike and waited for the Jeep to catch up to him.


	4. Draw Your Guns and Die Screaming

He sat at the edge of the clearing, a vast expanse of forest to his back. Snow filtered down through the treetops, leaving a light dusting of the frozen water over the unruly grass that had managed to grow.  He had crossed the border two nights ago and could feel the temperature plummet the further north he went. He had heard the weatherman over the radio this morning predicting a blizzard heading this general direction. He hoped to be gone by the time it decided to arrive. 

The fire in front of him crackled and popped as it consumed the wood he had tossed there a few minutes before. The damp wood gave a sharp hiss in protest but soon relinquished its fight with the blaze. He wrapped his hands around the steaming mug in his hands and inched slightly closer to the fire in an effort to gather more warmth from it. 

A sigh of pleasure passed his lips. 

He missed times like this. Times where no one knew where he was, sometimes not even himself. Every once in a while it just needed to be about him and his bike. No cares and no thoughts to worry or wonder about. No need to worry about the demands of other teammates. There was no one here to concern himself with. 

No ghosts either. 

He drank deeply from the steaming mug, finishing off the last dregs of the black coffee. Dropping it to the ground, he promised himself that he’d rest here for the night and leave at first light. He was close, he could feel it vibrating from somewhere inside of him. Lifting his face to the sky, he stared up through the veil of leaves overhead. White stars twinkled against the curtain of pitch black. Pale moonlight darkened the night sky even more, making the intricate pattern of constellations pop out in striking contrast.

It was time to head out to the camp and get the one thing that would aid him in his journey. 

Boisterous laughter echoed through the trees as the group of armed men spread out around a roaring fire. The smell of alcohol was still potent, signaling that the men where hunkering down for the night and relaxing their guard after a long day of travel. One soldier, known only to his teammates as Riker One, kept one eye on the ring of trees surrounding them and the other on the flask of whiskey clutched between his hands. He was the lone watch tonight, while the others drank their fill of spirits and told raunchy tales about the group of hookers they had come across in the last town. 

Wincing as the liquid passed down his throat, he wondered why he volunteered for this crap detail. They were far enough from any sort of civilization that no one was needed on watch. Though he figured had he not offered himself up, one of the other men would have volunteered him. Amazing thing about being the new kid on the block, you were the guinea pig for all the crap jobs that no one wanted. 

The rambunctious men around the fire began settling down for the night, the occasional crass remark was still tossed around but for the most part the majority of the team had surrendered to their alcohol induced slumbers. He didn’t know all of the details of why exactly they were staked out in the middle of nowhere. They were at least twenty miles from the town they had stopped at earlier that night but that didn’t bring them any closer to the command post where they were stationed. 

He was making mental note to ask his sergeant tomorrow morning when the sharp crackling of a tree branch startled him. He automatically dropped his flask to the ground and quietly raised his rifle to point blindly into the thicket of trees. He relaxed after several moments, chalking the sound up to the wild animals and settled his gun back to his side. 

The haze of alcohol blurred his vision slightly and he dug his thumbs into his eyes in an effort to clear them. Maybe he’d had more to drink that he was aware of. Oh well, it wasn’t as if they really needed him as a lookout out here in the middle of nowhere anyway. His eyes drooped, the alcohol affecting him more than he realized. A dark figure among the trees went unnoticed by him, too lost in his blissful stupor to even take notice of it. 

Bright, colorful images of the woman he had pressed up against the dingy bathroom wall last night swam behind his eyelids. The memory of her rehearsed whimpers sounded in his ears and he smiled at the thought. He shifted uncomfortably, the growing erection ill-timed here in the wilderness. 

The single minded thought that he was out here alone in the wilderness with his entire group knocked unconscious by alcohol flashed in his mind. They wouldn’t notice if he decided to physically enjoy the memory. That thought was instantly shattered by a sharp click as a sudden pain bloomed in the center of his chest. Thinking himself shot, he moved to crunch down to give whomever his enemy was less body mass at which to aim only to discover that he couldn’t move. 

Black spots mottled his vision and he blinked twice, hard, in an effort to clear them. The spots left but were immediately replaced with a light graying in his peripheral vision. He stared in disbelief at the three silver objects that stuck out of his chest. No wait, he thought faintly, they stuck _through_ his chest. What a strange thing he thought dumbly as his vision now began to fade all together. 

With another sharp click, the silver in his chest disappeared and he dropped to the ground. A black shadow appeared over him and he stared up blindly in fascination at what little he could see in his fading eyesight as the fire flickered over the shadowed face. Riker One slipped into unconsciousness and his body went lax as the life drained from him. 

Logan stood over the body of the solider and grimaced. He hadn’t realized that the kid was so young. No help for it really. Leaning over, he frisked the body and found the plastic reader card he’d come here for in the first place and tucked it snugly into the back pocket of his jeans. 

Loud snoring came from the direction of the fire and he found himself standing in the center of the small group of soldiers as they slept. All of them were young, he noticed, and dead drunk at that. The guard on duty had seemed to be the most coherent of the bunch, which was why he was the only one he’d come in contact with. Besides, he was the only one of the group he’d seen flashing around the pass card at the bar a few nights ago. 

He noticed a few patches of blood on the back of his knuckles and rubbed them absently on the side of his pants as he made his way away from the makeshift camp. He found what he had come for and these guys wouldn’t be any harm to anyone but themselves tonight, so he quietly left their area, making his way back to his own. 

There would be no more stopping from this point on. He had what he needed and was pointed in the right direction for what he wanted to accomplish.


	5. Play Me A Fool

“Omega Alpha just broke radio silence, sir.” 

“What for?” The voice hissed out between clenched teeth. That team was screwing up left and right. It was damn tiring and outright aggravating. 

“They have a situation.”  He provided no further elaboration. 

Air whistled out in displeasure. That team had been tearing a track a mile wide leaving a bloody trail of dismembered whores in their wake. They were useless and costing more money to keep together than they were worth. Time had long since passed for them to be discarded like the prostitutes they were so fond of. “What whore did they beat to a bloody pulp this time?” 

“Sir. Riker One is dead.” 

Shoulders were lifted in a shrug. “So someone beat him to a pulp instead. Serves the little piss ant right.” 

“No sir. He was stabbed.” His eyes stayed flat as he relayed the information to his commander. 

The words jolted and silver gray eyes jerked to where the sergeant stood, staring at the man in utter shock and disbelief. A sly smile turned up the corners of bloodless lips. “Really?” Triumph surged through veins, pumping erratically through a racing heart. 

“That’s not all, sir.” 

“Oh for Christ’s sake man, just spit it out and save the theatrics for when you’re trying to impress that slut you’ve been seeing on your nights off.” 

The soldiers face darkened with embarrassment and he coughed once to cover it. “Riker One’s code card is missing. The men with him couldn’t locate it when they discovered his body this morning.” 

Gnarled hands rose into the air. “Prepare the chamber. Finally, we’ll be having a guest soon.” 

“Sir?” 

“What?” The voice hissed between clenched teeth. 

He grimaced at the violence in the single word. “Uh, that was the only code those men had. Do you want me to have Alpha Tiger Team take a helicopter to their location and pick them up?” 

The blur of motion caught him off guard and he was left standing in the empty room in amazement at his boss’s orders. “Let them freeze.” 

*** 

The water glittered dark blue in front of him, a stark contrast to the fresh snowfall that had accumulated overnight. Tiny waves licked at the edges of his worn boots and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in the wrong place. 

The dam that had stood at the far end of the lake was now gone. A massive pile of rubble that towered above the water now. It had been obliterated a month ago when the water had come crashing through it. The shoreline had been relocated to where he now stood, the original one only traceable because trees still stood in the water, marking where the shoreline once was. 

There were no markings here to signify what had happened to Jean, no trace that she had even existed. 

Or died. 

He remembered standing here; searching the base long before he knew it held the answers he sought. He thought it empty then and had been surprised some time later to discover he was wrong. That his search had not been as thorough as he had believed. It was that knowledge that pulled him away from the water, urged him to push past the broken remains of what had been his past and discover what was left. The cardkey in his pocket slid smoothly across his palm as his hands slipped inside the denim. It was that knowledge as well that drove him to not give up. 

Cold, dead eyes watched the computer screen as he skirted the edge of the lake, walking closer to compound that lay in ruin. His eyes searched as he walked, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement, of life. All there was to do now was to wait for him to discover their existence. He would find them, of that there was no doubt. His keen senses would guide him right into their labs, lead him to discover that he was right; something was still working in the laboratories thought destroyed. Persistence was of the utmost value now; waiting as long as it would take for him to find his way down the tunnels. Even over the video the determination was evident; clouded his eyes with questions. 

Questions that would surely be asked as soon as it was discovered the secrets this place held. The answers however would only be given freely when absolutely required. He shouldn’t expect to just be handed those answers, he was going to have to work for them. 

Earn them.

The neon green light flashed once and a beep emitted from the electronic key after he swiped the card to allow him to pass. The lock clicked open with a soft ping and he shoved the thin plastic strip into his back pocket once again. Uniform gray walls greeted him as he stepped inside and closed the door carefully behind him. It shut with a snap and he could not push aside the sensation that something was off. This was too easy, he thought. He walked right in and no alarms went off, no bells or whistles. Someone was here, he was sure of it and had confidently entered thinking he would have a major melee on this hands. The skin between his knuckles itched as the metal underneath ached to be released after he had tensed up in preparation. 

But this utter and complete silence? 

He took the time to examine things around him. The hall he was standing in reeked of coldness, stark and bare. The odor of the area being freshly sterilized caused him to wince against the stench.  He certainly didn’t miss that. 

He carefully made his way down the hall, picking and choosing each of his steps cautiously as he proceeded further into the depths of the compound. 

“Sir, two of your men have spotted the subject and are trailing him from beyond his recognition distance.” 

“Good, keep it that way for now. I want him to think he just waltzed right in here free and clear.” 

“Confirmed.” 

Absently, his fingers trailed along the steel wall as he turned a corner. This was the second time he had been here…wait, no. It was the _third_ time he had been here wasn’t it? No matter how many times he had walked these halls the feeling of unease still settled deep within his adamantium coated bones. This place just didn’t seem right. As if it were the furthest depths you could go on land without actually touching hell. He’d been to hell before and had fought viciously for his way back to Earth. He had even walked the slippery slope between hell and heaven too many times to count. This place reminded him too much of that fine line and he wanted to find out what he came for and get out of Dodge fast. 

His thoughts drifted then, uncontrolled to immediately think of why he had come here in the first place. The redheaded woman that was haunting him, literally now it seemed. Was he just chasing some fantasy? Fueling himself with the barest of hopes that Jean was still alive and kicking? It was beyond comprehension and seemed silly even to himself. He realized then that he had wanted it to be real, had even needed it to be so. So real that he had imagined her there in the room with him, begging for him to come rescue her like some haunted damsel in distress. He knew better, knew that he had put all of his faith into Jean still being alive, despite the fact that he had watched with his own eyes as she had succumbed to the wall of water that had overtaken her at the lake. 

He scolded himself, for layering reality over a stupid thread of faith that maybe, just this once, someone he loved was going to be there with him in the end. What in the hell was he doing here? 

The soft clink of a gun cocking snapped his attention back to reality and he swore at himself for being so stupid. Whomever it was that was still here and had let him just walk right back into their fortress. He had been right; it really had been too easy. The soft hum of someone talking in a radio caught his attention behind him and he swung around, effortlessly popping the metal that had been poised to engage from between his knuckles in defense. 

He saw the glint of surprise behind the gas mask the uniformed officer standing in front of him was wearing. That’s usually when Logan struck but something was holding him there, keeping him in check where he stood unable to move and kick some camouflage ass. 

The white smoke drifted over his shoulder and he swore at himself again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was intent on rescuing Jean and then had gotten so caught up in his head again that he had run headlong without thinking about all the factors involved. Oh he had been thinking all right. Had been thinking solely with the one appendage on his person that he was swearing at even now for having a brain of its own. From what he was seeing now, he had been a fool. He was being played with and whomever was doing it deserved to capture him as easily as they had. 

Numbness crept up his limbs and he crumpled to the floor in defeat. The officers’ boots inched closer and his last coherent thought was how he hoped that whomever it was that had lead him here would finish the job that Stryker had sought to complete. 

After all, with the realization that Jean was truly dead, death was all that he had left.


	6. In Which Much is Revealed

Pale gray eyes watched as he gained awareness of himself despite the fact that his eyes were still closed. His muscles bunched under the surface of his skin ever so slightly and he pushed against his bindings a bit to test their hold. 

“I assure you, you are firmly placed where I want you.” His head lifted at the sound of the voice and his eyes slowly showed that he was coming back to himself again. “Well, well, what do we have here? Nice to finally meet you – Wolverine.” 

Instant hatred seethed beneath the surface inside of him, but exactly why, he couldn’t explain. He pushed it down though, decided it was better to save the hatred for later. Right now, he’d play the game. “What?” 

Easy observation showed that his mind was working, trying frantically to search the depths inside of himself to find just a inkling of recognition. “Oh, I know you. Your reputation proceeds you.” 

“How?” He spit out. 

Arms crossed and he could see amusement turning up the corners of a thin mouth. “Not much of a conversationalist, are you?” 

“Do I know you?” He sounded bored now, growing tired at the riddled words. 

“I’m hurt Wolverine. You don’t remember, do you?” 

“Look you demented bitch-“ He hissed. 

“Callista, please.” 

He frowned upon hearing her name, comprehension still eluding him.  He fought desperately, searched the deepest depths of himself and thought back to the small pieces of memories he had left. He faced an empty canvas. “I don’t know who you are or what you want-“ 

She interrupted. “Pardon my rudeness, you are correct. I was never given a chance to introduce myself.  Callista Sweetbrier.” She bowed slightly from the waist, her eyes never leaving his. Annoyance flashed in her silver eyes when she saw he still didn’t remember. “How sad, you really don’t remember, do you? Such a pity. Though you did just abruptly leave the last time. A shame really, when you think about it. All those big, tight muscles glistening with water.  And the look in your eyes – absolutely delightful.” 

“Stryker.” The name slipped past his lips with derision.  His distaste for the man still fresh and new. 

She waved a curled hand in the air, dismissing the name. “Pah. Stryker was a has been – a never was. And now he really isn’t because you made sure of that, didn’t you?” He could detect the sound of admiration in her voice. She may not have liked the man, but she sure seemed to respect him. “Another shame. He really did know what he was doing. Just couldn’t see past that big nose on his face.” 

She crossed the room, picking up objects at random, examining them and then settling them back into place with disinterest. “So singled minded that Stryker, too narrow focused for his own good. Maybe he’d still be alive today and not floating around somewhere out in that lake. Always told the old fool his work was going to kill him one day.” 

She narrowed her eyes as she walked towards him, her hand opening with effort to brush against his forearm when she stood in front of him, tracing the lines of the metal that ran under his skin. “Didn’t mean it literally though.” 

She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. He fought to recoil from her, the bonds holding him in place taking care of any thought of movement he had. Frowning, she turned, a swirl of green spinning around her as the dress she was wearing flared out. “Someday you’ll learn to appreciate those that made you.” 

“Nobody made me, lady.” 

“Quite the contrary, my friend. Stryker was indeed the one that laced those marvelous bones of yours with adamantium. The process is fascinating, definitely not for the squeamish though.” She stepped over to a board covered with buttons and flashing lights. She depressed one of those lights and a large liquid crystal screen lowered itself through the ceiling and slid into place. The image crackled to life and a the hollow whirring sound filled the room. 

Coming to stand behind him, she pressed against his back as they both watched the image clear on the screen. Stryker’s lab came into focus with perfect clarity. 

A large tank stood as the centerpiece of the room, a single occupant lay immersed in the water. This part he remembered, only in flashes, but still pieces of himself that he had learned in previous months.  He gave those memories up when he had left Stryker to die, steeled himself with the idea of never learning anything more about himself.  But where his returning memory stopped, the images on the screen filled in the black holes. He could feel his lungs burning now, a distorted reminder of what it had possibly felt like to still be inside of that tank.  His heart hammered painfully against his ribs as he watched, horrified at seeing the process firsthand now. Seeing just exactly what had entailed to make these unbreakable bones of his. 

She was right, it wasn’t for the squeamish. 

The video continued on and he watched with distaste palatable in his mouth. The screen flashed a few more times as the picture changed, the time between the two scenes interminable as there was no timestamp to give even a hint. His twin on the screen suddenly levered himself up from the confines of the tank and neatly disposed of the guards standing watch over him.  Water pooled on the ground as he pushed himself over the tank and stood naked in the center of the room. The door to the containment room slid open and soldiers began pouring through it. Logan watched in horror as the man on the screen seemed surprised to find the six razor sharp claws protruding from the backs of his hand. His screams filled both rooms and Logan closed his eyes, turning his face from the screen, unable to watch any longer. 

This part he remembered, it seemed old hat. The images replayed over and over in his mind when he tried to sleep now. Their relentless assault often mind numbing. 

“Turn it off.” 

Nails scraped lightly over skin as she trailed her hand across his cheek.  “Can’t watch?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t need to.” 

The sound of heavy panting resonated through the speakers and he knew the man on the screen had dispatched of all the soldiers that had so doggedly tried to stop him. 

“Ah, there it is.” Her fingers trailed down his jaw line and clenched tightly around his windpipe. “Open your eyes.” 

“What are you going to do, choke me to death? Go ahead; we both know very little is going to come of that. I’ve got nothing to lose and we both know I could sit here all day, for the rest of time even. It’ll be my pleasure to watch you rot.” His voice strained as she tightened her hand over his vocal chords. 

This was her moment, her time to inform him of her recent procurement. The moment she had been waiting for. She was going to draw this out as long as humanly possible and revel in it. Her breath whispered in his ear as she leaned in closer, pressing against the entire length of his back. “I have her.” 

His eyes flew open as his breath left him in a panicked rush. “What?” 

“Watch and learn. You may be rewarded with a glimpse of what you seek here.” She hissed, wrapping her fingers around his chin and turning his face so that he was forced to watch the overhead projection. 

The figure on the screen roared, drenched in the blood of the humans that he had just killed. A sharp click could be heard off screen and the man froze as he watched a darkened figure cross the room. He made no move to attack the person as they stepped into the single pool of light in the room.  Slick black heels, far from sensible and having no business in a place like that, shone in the light. A white uniform jacket covered the slim figure and a tumble of brown hair fell across one eye. 

The woman walked forward cautiously, her steps marked as she approached. Though her words couldn’t be heard, she appeared to be trying to console him. Calm him despite the utter bloodbath that surrounded them both. She ignored the blood and gore as she stepped carefully around the fallen bodies. Her focus completely and solely on him. He roared again as she approached and she appeared visibly shaken this time as she took a few steps back. She seemed to settle herself and stepped forward again, holding a hand out to him. He turned, screaming as he ran out of the lab and the camera showed the woman’s hand drop in defeat as she watched him leave. She spun, exiting the lab herself and Logan saw the familiar flash of face on screen. The same face that stood before him right now. 

Delight danced in her eyes as she watched recognition click into place. “Yes, that was me. I was in the lab the night you escaped.” 

“Why?” The word caught in his throat, the memories fresh and pieced together neatly to form a picture.  Forgotten were the words she whispered in his ear to gain his attention in the first place, he realized they were just a ruse to further hold him to do as she wanted. 

“Stryker may have been the one that laced that fascinating skeleton of yours with his adamantium, but I was the one that found you and brought you to him. I watched day in and day out as they discovered all of your mutant capabilities and formulated their ideas of just what to do you with. I wanted to study you, learn about you and your mutation, but they had other ideas. I was kept out of the program, pushed to the side and given no rights or authorizations to the project. You escaped that day because I convinced the rest of the scientists to take a break, to pat themselves on their backs and pad each others egos.” 

“Seems like to me, I did just fine escaping on my own.” 

She snorted and a wry smile pushed up the corners of her mouth. “Previous to that day, you were kept heavily sedated. Think about it, prior to that day, can you even begin to pull out memories? There aren’t any there to begin with because the day you were brought in, your mind was erased. Who you were previous to that day was inconsequential to them. If I had known Stryker’s intentions from the beginning I would reacted to his request differently. Once I realized just what he was planning to do with you, I took matters into my own hands.” 

“Just what was he planning?” 

“You’re a smarter man than that, Wolverine. Think about it.” 

He did. Thought about his abilities, his strengths and weaknesses. She saw the awareness come to him slowly, nodded as he looked at her. “That’s right. Animal like reflexes. Enhanced hearing. Unlimited regeneration capabilities. Your mutations added with the brutal military training that Stryker imprinted into your brain made for the perfect weapon upon completion of the program. His own personal assassin.” 

“So you let me go.” 

“I didn’t let you do anything. I simply failed to provide you with the required dose of medication that night. I knew the consequences of my actions couldn’t be repaired but I could stop any further progress in the program. I disabled the cameras and kept the tape from that night for myself, as you saw on the screen moments ago. Stryker and his men returned that night to find you gone and all their computer equipment malfunctioning. They assumed you were gone because of a computer glitch. They searched but were never able to locate you. Quite a surprise when you showed up at the school when Stryker was invading.” 

“I suppose I should be thanking you then.” His voice was flippant, loathe to give this woman any credit as to why he was right back where he started. 

“You mistake my actions for compassion. The act of my letting you go was a slap in the face to Stryker. He lacked any real vision and was desperate because of his own malevolence.  I threw a huge wrench in his plans and set his program back years.” 

“But he succeeded again, didn’t he?” 

She nodded in agreement. “Deathstrike. I was no longer a part of the program by that point so there was nothing I could do to stop him. After I heard he was killed, I came back here to see what was salvageable.” 

He looked around the lab. Observing the various bleeps and noises in the large room. “Looks like you found what you were looking for.” 

The time had arrived. “More so in fact.”  Another screen clicked to life when she depressed another button and his eyes were drawn to it. What he saw made the blood in his veins ice in panic.  A tank, similar to the one that had once held him, stood in the center of the room. There was a figure in this tank as well; however, he could tell this image was live – not some recording of the past. Callista hadn’t been lying after all. Yes, he had been played a fool, but not for what he had thought. He had been lured here for whatever sick, twisted reason this woman saw fit. He really had not been going crazy. 

She was alive. 

Jean’s body floated in the water with an oxygen mask strapped over her nose and mouth. A team of white suited people milled around the room clutching official looking clipboards between their gloved hands. 

A hollow voice sounded through the television. “T-minus one minute and counting. Are shields in place?” 

“What are they doing to her?” His question went unanswered from Callista. Her interest wholly on the events transpiring in the other room. 

“Shields are a go.” 

She turned then, her eyes narrowing as she watched the terror begin to line his face.  She knew genuine concern when she saw it. She was reveling in this so much and was actually enjoying his pain. Excitement lit her eyes as she turned to the computer screens. “Watch.” 

The technician punched a few buttons. “Heart rate is normal. Vital signs are holding steady.” 

“Brain activity?” 

“Off the charts.” 

A feminine sounding computer voice added to the noise of the room. “T-minus thirty seconds.” 

“Stop!” He roared, his voice echoing off the bare walls of the room. Callista ignored him and watched the experiment with rapturous interest. 

“Safety protocols in place? I don’t want this place blowing its lid.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“T-Minus fifteen seconds.” 

“Good. Initiate program Delta Two Alpha. On my mark.” 

The technician flipped a clear cover over a large blue button. As he held his finger to hover over the device, his nervousness was clearly visible by his shaking fingers. “The button is hot sir. Waiting for Delta Two Alpha mark.” 

“Initiate.” He could see the man brace himself, pressing his feet firmly into the ground beneath them. This test had obviously been conducted before but the unknown was still possible. 

“Delta Two Alpha is a go.”

The screen went blank, the signal terminated. “No!” Logan’s voice resonated off the labs walls.

He struggled against the clamps that held him tightly in place. 

“You know that’s futile.” 

It didn’t matter to him. The blood streaming down his forearms didn’t matter. The sharp pain intensifying as he dug his arms against the ironclad restraints didn’t matter. 

Nothing mattered.  

Nothing mattered but Jean. 

The roar of his voice echoed again off the drab gray walls as he fought. He felt helpless. Had felt that feeling once before, in the plane, and damned himself nearly every day for not doing something that time. This time, however, would be different. He would fight against everything that he was to do something. Still the overwhelming sense of helplessness washed over him as the bands held steady. 

She said nothing more, made no move to ease his suffering. To stop the inky red blood pooling at his feet as it dripped from his arms. He could slice down to bone for all she cared and it wouldn’t make any difference to her. He was simply hurting himself and proving nothing by doing so. Her feet itched to carry her across the room and take that easy step into the lab next door to see how things were progressing but she remained where she stood. They would report their findings to her once the tests were complete. This was all she was really interested in anyway. 

With a final sigh, Logan stopped his struggles against the cuffs that held him in place. He vision grayed slightly from the loss of blood and he struggled to keep his head upright as exhaustion took its hold. 

He had failed again. Had failed Jean again despite his promise. 

She did step out of the lab then, satisfied that, for now, he’d given up hope. This was her first step in breaking him.


	7. A Fire In The Depths of Your Soul

 

She watched the computer screen silently while the rest of the medical teams went about their business. Her attention was focused in two places at once. Part of it on one monitor watching Logan drift in and out of consciousness. The other on the earlier part of the test she had missed. Her attention focused completely to the latter and she pressed a button on the panel before her.

A grainy video began playing and a smirk teased the corner of her lips as she watched the events she had denied him unfold. 

The figure in the tank jerked twice before her eyes flew open in surprise. Instantly, a pulsating light began to glow around her.  Not around her, Callista corrected, from within her. The orange glow cast an eerie light throughout the lab where the testing was being conducted. 

Readings spiked as the glow grew brighter and the glass windows on the tank bulged slightly, showing the level of power emanating from the figure inside. 

“Delta Two Alpha testing complete.” 

“Confirmed. Begin Delta Two Beta. On my mark.” 

“Delta Two Beta sequence is ready, sir.” 

“Initiate.” 

“Delta Two Beta is a go.” 

The lab was suddenly bathed in a fiery glow as the figure in the tank screamed. Lightweight objects began levitating into the air from their varied positions around the room. The lab rattled once and all the personnel sought to find purchase by grabbing whatever equipment was nearest. 

“Sir. Delta Two Beta testing is complete.” 

“Confirmed.” 

The image on the screen went black as the end of the tape was reached. She raised her eyes to the man standing before her. “Status?” 

“Vital signs are elevated but steady. Brain wave patterns are phenomenal. I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

“Never?” Surprise had her winging up her eyebrows. 

“No sir, not even the last time we reached this point in the testing.” 

She turned to the woman wearing a white lab coat similar to her own. “Interesting.” The woman nodded in agreement and turned back to the clip board in her hands. 

“Are we ready to begin the next test?” She nodded her head as a signal to the head of the medical team. 

“Sir.” Turning, he rested a hand on the shoulder of the technician sitting in front of him. “Begin Gamma sequence on my mark.” 

“Delta Two Gamma sequence ready for mark.” 

“Initiate.” 

“Delta Two Gamma is a go.” 

Intense heat ignited the entire room, instantly causing the personnel to sweat heavily inside the confines of their lab suits.  

She saw movement from the corner of her eye and flashed out her hand to point to one of her technicians. “Don’t remove your suit Gibbs – that’s an order.” The frightened assistant lowered her hands from her suit helmet and continued recording the data flashing on screen. 

Furniture began levitating now, the bolts holding the metal medical scanners to the floor groaned from excessive stress. The room began to shake violently and several team members lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. Protective layers of crystal shuddered in protest as thousands of tiny bubbles raced to the surface and exploded. Jean’s body was held rigid despite the weightless fluid that surrounded her. Every muscle was taut as the scientists conducted their tests. She could faintly see through the watery liquid around her, could only register a flurry of activity as they raced around the room grabbing floating objects. 

Let them continue their tests, maybe she would be able to see just exactly what it was that she was capable of. Maybe she would kill them all. Rid the Earth of these low life creatures that swarmed around her, studying her as if she was some sort of science experiment. They deserved to die. How dare they disturb her slumber when she rested so peacefully. After she had sacrificed everything she was to see things like this come to an end. She would make sure they paid. 

“Reaching critical levels sir. Suggest we shut it down.”

Adrenaline coursed through Callista’s veins, pumping furiously as her eyes frantically scanned the screens before her. No, not yet. She wanted to see how far they could push. She was a woman who expected results when she demanded them.  Wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfection. 

Now was no different. 

She knew, with everything that she was, that there was more to the woman floating before her eyes than what just was on the surface. She tapped her foot in time to the beat that emitted from the monitor in front of her. Figures and readouts flashed before her eyes, demanding that she make a decision. 

Lights flickered and the monitor in front of her blinked once as a surge of electricity sparked from the tank. 

“Sir!” Gibbs screamed in horror as she watched Callista stepped around the bank of monitors and came within inches of the tank that contained Jean. 

She saw movement directly in front of her and narrowed her eyes in an effort to make out the figure that stood there. The brunette woman before her was responsible for what was happening to her; responsible for the searing burn that relentlessly flowed through her body. 

She was the one that would pay. 

Callista snapped out of her fog when a hand was set on her shoulder. “Sir. We need to shut it down.” Gibbs’ voice was clear as she spoke despite her earlier panic. 

She fought to say no, continue on despite the readings. The data was incorrect; there was nothing at all wrong with the occupant of the tank, otherwise why would she be living before their eyes? But for the safety of her team, she conceded. She crossed back to stand behind the array of screens and pressed her knuckles into the steel counter in front of her. “Fine.” 

The high pitched whine immediately ceased, and the room was plunged into darkness. Lights began flicking on one at a time as electricity was restored to normal levels.  

Callista stared for a few minutes, silently watching her technicians jotting down data and taking readings. There was nothing more she could do for the moment. “Report to me anything abnormal. I’ll be in my quarters.” 

Turning, she exited the lab.


	8. Serenity

Her room was quiet as she entered, a surprisingly welcome change from all the machines making noise inside the lab. A scientist at heart, there were still some days when she just longed to be out of the lab and out in the field. She missed the hands on work, the satisfaction it brought her. Now she had a staff of about fifty that handled it all for her. 

Styker’s staff, she corrected herself. Staff that she had let others find for her. It still bothered her that she had let him get the best of her, push her aside like a small annoying child and take over her work. She wanted to study the mutants. He wanted to use them for his personal gain. 

Power was all that mattered to him. 

Knowledge was what mattered to her. 

She wanted to discover mutants’ weaknesses and strengths. Learn all there was to know about them. She wanted to understand everything that there was to know because she knew that mutants couldn’t help their genetic design any more than humans could pick the sex of their child. That time was quickly coming to an end however, as she planned to extract mutant DNA and start breaking down the genes that mutated and gave these fascinating creatures their powers. Harness the cells and duplicate them to give normal humans a fighting chance. 

Stryker’s goals had been to use mutants for his personal gain and dominance.  She just wanted their blood. But first she had to fully comprehend what she was dealing with. She had hit pay dirt when she’d come to Stryker’s former lab and found it decimated by the collapse of the dam. Persistence had paid off however when she discovered the sealed off wing still stood. A few well placed, and timed, phone calls had her back up and in business within two weeks. 

Of course, a bulging bank roll had helped that venture as well. 

And a little luck. 

In order to study mutants, one had to find mutants to study. Expecting the search would take months to find a willing participant, imagine her surprise when the monitors had gone into a screeching frenzy the moment she’d ordered them switched on. The search, and extraction, had gone smoothly and she now had herself a living, breathing mutant to study. She itched to speak to the woman, learn why she was up here in the frozen north in the middle of a lake where civilization was nowhere to be found. But they’d had to bring her back from the edge of the death she’d been flirting with and she had yet to speak. 

Her geneticists were swiftly working with the blood sample that had been extracted from the mutant. For the moment, she was leading the team that was running tests to learn all there was about her powers. 

Wolverine though, was a different story. That he showed up here at all was a shock. It was obvious he held a connection with the woman she kept captive and she had used that to her advantage to lure him inside and imprison what was hers to begin with. He was a fascinating case study to begin with and the scientists were studying his blood too, of course. She expected their findings would be similar to her own years before, but looked forward to studying him once again. Maybe time had changed his DNA so that more wonders lay undiscovered. 

She paced the small room she kept for her quarters. She just wanted something to do, something to keep her hands busy and her mind working. She felt so helpless sitting here doing nothing when there were two mutants in her possession that could be studied. Testing that could be performed. Anything that could be used to get them just one step closer to her goal. 

The buzzer sounded, startling her. The door slid open and one of her aides stood uncomfortably in the archway. “Sir, the data you requested.” 

She took the package from the young man and struggled not to dismiss him. The boy’s red rimmed glasses sat on the tip of his nose and he hastily pushed them up as she stared at him. His unkempt black hair was in desperate need of a brush and his clothes were wrinkled as if he’d been wearing them for days. She wondered about the last time he had actually gotten any sleep.  Since he was there, he might as well be useful. “Status?” 

“The mutant’s vital signs all returned to normal once the testing was aborted, sir. The creature seems to have induced a regenerating sleep.” 

She scowled when his voice dripped with disdain when he mentioned the woman they held captive. “The creature?” 

Hastily, he cleared his throat, realizing his mistake. “The mutant, sir.” 

“She. Her. That is a living, breathing person out there and you will treat her as such.” 

“I beg your pardon sir, but not to me.” His empty and emotionless eyes stared past her so he wouldn’t make eye contact with her. 

“Imbecile.” She did dismiss him now with a wave of her hand. When he merely stood there, she stepped back into her room and slammed the door in his face. 

The figures lining the page blurred as she stared at them and after a few purposeful blinks did nothing to clear her vision, she realized exhaustion was beginning to take its hold. It was no wonder really, with all the work she’d been doing lately; she hadn’t had a full night’s rest since finding the woman. In her rush to find out as much as there was possible about her mutant capabilities, she had been neglecting her own personal care. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten. 

As if on cue, her stomach rumbled loudly in protest and she made her way to the kitchenette area of her quarters. A moldy chunk of cheese and a quart of soured milk greeted her when she opened the small refrigerator door. Frowning, she tossed the paperwork aside and opened the cabinet next to the tiny sink. The shelves were starkly bare. “Shit.” 

She slammed the cabinet door with a bang and rubbed her fingers against her temple in an effort to quell the threatening headache. Eyes burning from exhaustion, she blindly made her way back out to the main room and collapsed on the sofa, forgetting about food and immediately falling into a dreamless sleep.  


	9. May the Devil Himself Take You

He’d been wrong. Wasn’t the first time really and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Despite his doubts, despite his avid avoidance of reality, Jean was alive and kicking.  She had tried to tell him, tried to convince him that day in the mansion and though he’d come here, he still had carried the weight of denial heavy with him.

Logan’s thoughts focused then, completely forgetting about anything else except for freeing the two of them from this place.  He would rescue both of them from Callista’s sanctuary and they were going to see this place reduced to a pile of rubble once and for all. The steel binding his wrists bit into them as he tried to test the metal again, but found them holding steady. A heavy sigh escaped between his lips then. Sure, he had this grandiose plan to get the both of them out of there but exactly how was he going to accomplish that? 

Just then, the pneumatic doors slid open with a whoosh and he lifted his head to see one of the lab technicians enter the room. She hesitantly moved inside and carefully looked over her shoulder as she stepped into the room. He recognized her eyes as the ones he had seen on the monitor earlier as the one who had stood next to Callista through the testing. 

Those clear, cornflower blue eyes stared back at him, no binds of technology between them now.  Her curly blonde hair shifted slightly as she nodded once to acknowledge his presence and walked over to one of the panels with her signature clipboard in her hand. 

“Your boss sure has some fucked up ideals.” He growled out as she kept silently recording the readings before her.  “I mean, she captures two mutants against their will and is running some sort of science experiment on them? Doesn’t sound right if you ask me.” 

“No one did.” She murmured, her eyes never leaving the figures on the paper. 

“You’re right.” 

Her head turned then and he saw a glimmer of amusement shift across her eyes. “I usually am.” 

Oh this is something he could work with. “Then if you’re always right, why are you letting her call all the shots? Shouldn’t you be the one to be the head of this project, running the tests and experiments to find out whatever it is that you’re searching for?” 

“If you think that reverse psychology babble is going to work on me Mr. Logan, you are sadly mistaken.” She stood before him now, her clipboard left without thought by the main panel as she looked him over. 

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” 

“Yes, I can.” 

He smiled then. “Yeah, I know. Little rusty at it apparently.” 

“I can see that.” She adjusted her lab coat but not before she covered the scarred skin just beneath her left collarbone. 

Curious. “Since I’m not really going anywhere anytime soon mind if I ask a few questions?” 

“Within reason.” 

“Questions with boundaries huh?” 

“You still are a prisoner, after all.” 

“Figured as much. So, let’s start out with introductions as you clearly know who I am.” He waited for her to offer up her identity. Her mind worked as she was trying to determine if he had the right to know anymore about the people who were here.

 “Aubrey Gibbs.” 

His head tilted slightly in thanks. “So why do you work for a psychopath?” 

She laughed then, a surprise in the bleakness of the laboratory. “You certainly aren’t one to start out with the easy ones are you?” 

“Usually am.” He echoed her words back to her and he could see her face soften as the tension in her shoulders eased. 

“If it’s any consolation, I wasn’t aware of Callista’s transgressions when I came to work for her. “ 

“Then why stay once you found out?” 

“Everyone needs a job.” She stepped forward towards him now, her fingers lifting to check the key pad that controlled the steel bands wrapped around his arms. “But you’re not asking the one question that you’ve wanted to ask since I stepped into this room.” 

His mouth went dry then and he carefully licked his lips to wet them before he spoke. “And that would be?” 

“Why is a senior employee standing here before you taking meaningless readings when any of the inconsequential peons that Callista keeps on staff could be doing it?” Her fingers slid against the silver metal of the key pad as she spoke. 

His eyes rolled then as he recognized the situation. He’d been here before and normally avoided such encounters. But what the hell, he liked her for some reason. “If you want sex babe, all you had to do ask when you first walked in. It’s not like I can exactly do anything to fight you off.” 

“Be still my heart, such a romantic notion. Sex with you right here in this sterile, cold lab. The thought just gives me the warm fuzzies.” She snorted and leaned in closer to him. “Not every woman is susceptible to your boyish charms.” The keypad beeped twice and a hiss of air escaped as the bindings snapped open. 

He stared for a few moments, convinced this was some kind of trick that he was standing here free. He watched her back as she crossed the room again as she calmly walked back to the control panel and lifted the clipboard again. 

His feet screamed for him to move before she did something he wasn’t expecting. Before she changed her mind. “Why?” 

Her head titled towards the lab entrance. “Go, before I hit the alarms. I’ll give you two minutes to get her out of that tank, but then you’re on your own.” 

He nodded in understanding even as confusion swirled in his head. “Thank you.” He turned to leave but was brought up short by her whispered voice in his ears. Spinning around he found her walking towards him again. Her thin arms lifted to encompass his shoulders in a tight hug. 

Her mouth moved against the skin on his neck, her words whispered so only he could hear them despite the fact they were the only ones in the lab. “You saved me once. When I was a child.” 

She pulled away from him then, tears glistening in her eyelashes.  His mind raced to remember, to recall the details that had lead him to save her life.  She saw the confusion on his face. “I was one of the lucky ones in the MGM Grand Hotel fire in 1980.” She pushed aside the fabric of her white lab coat so he could see the ropes of scarring that crossed her left shoulder. 

Recognition flooded over him. He had been in Vegas for one of his more shady business ventures when the fire had broken out in the deli at the hotel. A cute towheaded little girl had been sitting beside him with her parents when the fire had been noticed. A beam from overhead had fallen into the casino, instantly killing the girls’ parents. 

“Oh my god.” 

She nodded as she backed away. “Freeing you is the least I can do for repayment.” 

“What about Callista?” 

“I’ll deal with her. Any admonishment I receive from her for freeing you is well earned in my opinion.” Her finger hovered over the alarm. “But I still need to make it at least look like an escape. Two minutes.” 

He nodded and exited the lab then, incredulous as to what just happened. Sometimes you just never knew. 

The emptiness of the room greeted him as he stepped into the room where Jean was being held.  He eyed the sheet of glass that separated the lab from this room up off to his left and saw Aubrey standing silently watching.  She reached forward to wipe at an invisible speck on the partition but he recognized the action as warning.  She had used one finger to wipe the glass clean meaning she was only giving him one minute to get moving. 

Without thought, his hands plunged into the icy water and he nearly gasped when his skin made contact with Jeans. He was touching her, had his hands on her actual flesh after so long without feeling it.  Adhesive cups holding wires to her were stripped off and he gently extracted the intravenous line that was slid under her skin to provide nourishment. The breathing tube and guards were the last to be removed as he lifted her to the surface. She gagged and he quickly lifted her out of the tank as she began coughing. 

“Okay?” He asked once the coughing fit had subsided. She nodded and his hand closed over hers. “Good to see you.” 

A blaring alarm screeched to life in the silence of the room and they both snapped up to stand. He ran flat out, tugging Jean behind him. As he left, he glanced up to the lab where Aubrey still stood, her hand pressed against the sheet of glass in valediction. 

Pushing thoughts of her aside, he rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt. Where did they go now? Callista’s goons would swarm this place within seconds and they needed to get out of here fast. 

Spinning to talk to Jean about a solution, he was brought up short by the ring of fire that he saw hovering over the surface of her skin.  He watched her fight it at first, try to push away the shimmer of heat that threatened to overtake her. “You can fight it Jean. You have to. We have to get out of here.” 

She gave herself over to it easily despite his words, welcomed the comforting heat that washed over her when she invited it inside. She knew, without question, without so much as a thought, that she could level the entire fortress just by thinking it. But that was not what drove her, what made her the angriest. One soul in this entire compound didn’t deserve to live anymore. She needed to pay for her crimes and pay dearly she would. 

He ran at her, screaming her name because he didn’t understand. 

No one did. 

Her hand flashed through the air and Logan found himself tossed into the air like a discarded toy soldier. He crashed through a panel of dials and felt the electricity race through him before the circuit shorted itself out. Stunned, he found he was unable to move any part of his body and drowned in the darkness enveloping him. Her footprints glowed red hot as she moved down the hall, the metal melting instantaneously as her feet padded against it. She downed a group of men with just a simple glance as they ran towards her.

She walked with purpose, with no rush to her steps as she progressed. Her enemy sat cowered under a console panel two levels above her. How childish. To simply lay in wait, hoping your hiding place was secure enough to remain hidden. How could she even think that, especially from her? She knew better than to try to hide but yet she tried like the coward she was. A trail of fire and destruction followed in her wake, obliterating years of research and study. Jean couldn’t care less. Pausing, she raised her head up to stare at the ceiling above. The metal below her began glowing in protest at the heat emanating from her stance. As she stared, the metal shifted and changed. Thinned to near transparent before blasting outward to expose the level above. Without effort, she lifted herself through the hole she made and continued walking towards her goal. 

“You know it’s futile.” Jean’s voice boomed through Callista’s head and she clutched her temples between her hands. She screamed against the pain radiating through her mind, sure that she would pass out from the pain. 

Jean shook her head at the woman’s thoughts.  “You’re going to experience pain like you’ve never imagined. Just when you think it’s coming to an end, that’ll you gain some reprieve, I’m going to ensure that it feels like it’s starting all over.”  

She towered over the machinery hiding the woman and laughed. The console exploded to the side leaving the cowering mass that was Callista. 

“When I’m done playing with you, when your screams bore me – the last scream on your breath will be one of gratitude for going so easy on you.” 


	10. Fire and Ice, Ash and Snow

 

Lifting his head, he tried in vain to shake the haze from his brain. Joints cracking, muscles straining, he pushed himself away from the ruined electrical panel and bent over. Resting his hands on his knees, he vomited once from the extreme pain. The generator lights flickered and he swiped a hand across his mouth as he stood, swallowing the astringent taste of bile in his mouth. Gathering himself, he carefully made his way through the debris in the hall. The pain finally leveled off to a manageable point and he stared down at the imprints forming a line down the center of the hall. He swore and pushed himself into a run to follow the direction of the steps. 

The lights flickered again, twice, and then the hall around him was plunged into darkness again. Surely a place like this would have backup generators. As he quietly stood waiting, he noticed a dull glow down the hall to his left. It was all the light he needed. He sprinted towards the glow and was near it within seconds. 

“Holy mother of God.” Astonished, he lifted a hand up to the low ceiling and felt the warm steel under his fingers. At least it confirmed he was heading in the right direction. He pushed off with his legs, vaulting himself up to grab the melted steel and levered himself through the hole. 

Halfway through, a piercing scream tore through the empty corridors. Adrenaline shot through his system and within seconds, he was through the hole and running full out towards the noise. He stopped cold when Jean stepped out into the hall just a few feet in front of him. Fire ringed the floor around her and when she turned to face him, he could see her eyes were bright with the blaze. The wall of heat slammed into him and he staggered backward a few steps. 

“Jean!” His voice punched through the air and she tilted her head to the side as she looked at him; almost as if she were curious about hearing such a name come from his lips. Flames licked possessively at her and the room she had just exited erupted in flames as they shot through the doorway. 

Bracing himself, he inched forward, grimacing at the heat radiating from her. Blankly, she stared at him without really seeing him; her pupils’ small pinpricks of black against the fiery hues blazing in her once emerald green eyes. He watched as she lifted a hand in front of her face, focused intently on the fire that swirled around it. She stared, fascinated by the bold colors that ringed her entire hand. Curious, her arms stretched out and she could see that the fire enveloped her completely. 

There was no pain, though she wasn’t sure why she expected there to be. There was only warmth that washed over her, glowing and feeding on emotions swirling around her. Who was this man who stood before her? 

Did he need to die just as the woman had? 

She could see he had been through so many traumas already. The anguish visible in his eyes, on his face, as he stared back at her; surprise and confusion lined his face. He was an old soul. Not someone that she was out to cause harm. Those that had been hurting her were new beings, humans driven by power and greed.  He was different, an altered being of some sort. While anger threaded through this man’s soul, it was not directed at her. What she did recognize was a deep emotion welled inside of him. Curious, she prodded further and found a strong foundation of love that various women’s images were imprinted upon. But one stood alone, above all the rest; was the most prominent. 

She recognized that being as herself. 

Memories overwhelmed her. “Logan,” she whispered as the fire extinguished itself in a split second and she crumpled to the floor exhausted. 

Forgetting what he had just seen, ignoring the stifling wall of heat from the next room, he sprinted toward her. She lay in a heap when he arrived beside her, her knees drawn up to her chest in a fetal position. 

Cautiously, he pushed a hand on her shoulder and shifted her onto her back when he found her skin was cool to the touch. Bright green eyes stared back at him. They searched the area around them, puzzled. She met his eyes and saw the concern lingering on his face. 

“What happened?” Her voice was raspy, strange; her throat raw and constricted. She coughed a few times and winced at the brief flash of pain the spasms caused. 

Time began again for him and he realized the hallway was quickly filling with smoke. Explanations would have to wait. “Can you walk?” An explosion ripped through the floor below them, sending a tremor through where they now stood. “Better yet, can you run?” He amended. 

She nodded and pushed herself up to stand. Jerking his head to the side, he broke out into a run and she willingly followed. 

He disappeared into a room, signaling to her he would return in a second. Disregarding him, she followed. **“** What are you doing?” 

“Disabling this fortress once and for all.” A shower of sparks rained down over them both as his adamantium claws sliced through the main power supply to the compound. Total silence fell around them and the area was plunged into complete darkness. 

Grabbing for her hand, he lead the way as they cautiously exited the room and made their way down the pitch black hallway. He seemed to have an instinct about which corridors to take, so she silently let him guide her. Security lights powered by hidden generators whirred to life and a faint green glow bathed the ceiling above their heads in spots.  He swore under his breath when they came upon a solid brick wall that blocked their progress any further forward. “We took a wrong turn somewhere.” 

“So much for that theory I just had about you knowing exactly where we were going.” 

“This setup is nearly identical to Stryker’s compound but obviously there have been some changes,” he retorted dryly. 

They doubled back for a few moments and then took the opposite hall. 

She nearly walked into him when he stopped, his eyes anxiously searching for something.  He pushed her back into a small alcove and gestured for her to remain quiet when she started to ask why. Standing in front of her, he blocked her from line of sight. His dark clothes blended better with the absence of light than her pale exposed skin.  bright flash of light shone down the hallway, followed by the footsteps of a guard.  The light swept the hall as the men approached and they both heard the cocking of a machine gun that kept them both firmly planted in their hiding place. Her breath blew across his neck as they waited and he swallowed hard in an effort to restrain his emotions. Despite their current situation, the rage he had seen inside of her, it was all he could do to not turn around, press her up against the wall and forget where they were. 

The sweet vanilla scent of her skin flooded his sinuses and he grimaced. Just what he needed right now, fucking wonderful. 

He swallowed hard and watched as the guards passed single file, guns drawn and at the ready. He wasn’t good at waiting, at being patient. There was a need for it this time though, he had more than just himself to worry about. The two guards slowly made their way down the hall and disappeared around the corner. 

He let out a strained sigh and pulled her into the hall when he was certain the coast was clear. They began stealthily making their way down the hall again. 

“Wait,” she whispered, immediately disappearing into a room to her left. She reappeared seconds later, wearing a stark white lab coat. His memory triggered, sending him down the road on a journey with the memory of the last time he had seen her wearing one. He’d been flat on his back in the lab, waiting while she performed the battery of tests they had hoped would give him some clue of his past. 

He still maintained she just wanted to see him without his shirt. 

Shaking the memory off, he checked to make sure she was behind him and continued briskly down the hall. He kept up the ruthless pace and she felt her lungs burning for air as she struggled to keep up. What was happening to her? She searched her own mind while they wound through the halls and hit her own figurative brick wall. There was a blockage in there, a gaping black hole that for the life of her she couldn’t get past. 

Fires raged around them and she couldn’t help but feel responsible for it in some way. It bothered her, the cavernous emptiness she kept encountering no matter how hard she dug. 

Intent on her musings, she nearly stumbled right into him.

She mumbled her apologies and stretched up onto her toes to see over his shoulder. The path before them was completely blocked by a large pile of debris that was engulfed in flames. 

“Christ.” Grabbing her upper arm, he spun them both around and dragged her in a different direction. 

Her arm wrenched from his grasp and she planted her feet firmly on the ground, refusing to move. Her eyes followed the trail of imprints in the flooring and she quietly stepped over to them. 

Before he could protest, she slid her foot over the melted metal and pressed down against it. The print and her foot were a perfect match. 

“I did this, didn’t I? All of this destruction is because of me?” Her voice cracked as her voice trailed off. 

He heard the far off clatter and groans of metal straining under pressure and fought against simply tossing her over his shoulder and high tailing it out of there. But she wanted explanation, cause for everything she saw. A reason she couldn’t remember. Explanations he could give, reasons he couldn’t. 

“Right now, we need to get out of here.” He pressed his voice with urgency, hoping to make her realize their situation was dire. 

She stared almost in fascination at the rubble, but quickly agreed with him when the stench of burning flesh filled her nose. Waving him on, she walked backwards a few steps, thousands of questions spinning through her head with no answers to be found. 

“Jean, please.” 

She nodded and turned, following him blindly as tears blurred her vision. 

Minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief when he found what he had been searching for. His shoulder slammed into the steel door and he heard bone crack just as the door gave a fraction. Ignoring the pain, he reached back, securing her hand in his. He felt her shaking but wasn’t sure if it was nerves or adrenaline. What he did know was they needed to get away from this place. 

Fast. 

A frigid wall of winter slapped at him as he used all of his weight to lever the door completely open. Snow swirled chaotically around them as they stepped into the raging blizzard. She gasped out in surprise when her bare feet contacted with the piled up snow and she gritted her teeth against the shock. Her eyes closed momentarily and he could see her muscles twitch under her skin. 

Where was it? 

She didn’t remember all of this chaos she caused but she seemed to clearly remember that tapping into the heat had been effortless, completed in mere seconds. Where was it when she needed it the most? 

Reluctantly, her eyes opened and met his. Her head shook in resignation and she began picking her way over the frozen drops of water, pushing down the pain in an effort to ignore it. 

Cursing, he caught up to her, shrugging off his heavy coat as he stumbled in the snow. He slung it over her shoulders as he passed, wanting to lead the way in hopes that it would create a semblance of a path for her to follow without much resistance. They trudged through the heavy snow drifts, struggling to maintain their footing. She fought to keep the jacket he had wrapped around her from slipping off her shoulders while he fought back the hypothermia that constantly threatened to overtake him. 

Silently, she tapped him on the shoulder but he ignored her, sure of exactly what she was going to ask. He shook his head and kept walking, his eyes constantly scanning all around them for signs they were being followed.  Glancing behind him to ensure she was able to keep up, he could see she was more in need of the coat than he was anyway. The trailing edges of the lab coat she had managed to find were sopping wet from the snow. 

“Where are you going?” Her yell was carried off by the wind and if it wasn’t for his sharp hearing, he would never have heard her. 

“Bike’s just past that line of trees.” Her eyes following the direction to which his finger pointed. “We get there, we can get home.” 

She abruptly stopped walking and the wind whipped her hair across her face and into her eyes. Her hair slapped at them, causing them to water. The liquid froze to her lashes from the cold that surrounded them. 

“I can’t go back.” Her head shook from side to side in case he had not been able to make out her words. 

Confused, his hand came up under her elbow and pulled her against him. “Why?” 

Her face tilted up to his and he immediately noticed the haunting look in her eyes through her hair. He brushed her hair clear and felt his heart wrench with the emotion he saw on her face. 

She was scared. Not just visibly so either. Down deep inside the very core of her, her soul shook with a terror even he didn’t comprehend. 

“Okay.” Pressing his lips to her icy forehead, he scanned the white horizon again. An explosion rocked the forest behind them as the fire reached one of the main generators. He turned, confident that if anyone was following from that mess, he would be able to pick them out of the colorless expanse surrounding them. 

He gauged the remaining distance. “It’s a few more miles, are you going to be okay?” 

Her head bobbed in answer and they slowly continued picking their way through the storm.


	11. Stealing the Moment

Entering the main room of the house, she turned slowly in a circle, drinking in all the details of the space. Or rather the lack of details. “This place just screams of you.” 

He entered from a door on the opposite side of the room. “Actually, most of the screaming usually takes place up there.” The smirk teased up the corners of his mouth as his eyes cast upward, indicating there were more rooms to the house. 

She laughed and wrapped her arms around herself, snuggling herself deeper into his jacket. The wood paneled walls added a sense of warmth that she thought was completely unintentional on his part. Those walls were bare save for a large mural of a forest in the clenches of winter that hung over the oversized fireplace. 

Mismatched chairs were scattered in no formal order and the couch appeared to have seen better days. A lone dilapidated chair sat in the corner of the room, threadbare and worn through at the seams. The hanging threads show the yellow fabric is well loved and has been there for quite some time. It fits right into the home, the starkness of the cabin unrelieved by any decoration. There were no frills and only the necessities are visible to the naked eye. She imagined she would find the rest of the house in a similar state and felt oddly comforted with that thought. There were just some things the felt good to return to. 

“How long have you had this place?” She asked, returning his jacket to him reluctantly. 

Stepping into the room, he dropped the jacket that smelled of her now onto the couch. “Awhile. Just some place for when I need a break.” 

“So this is where you disappear to.” 

He nodded in confirmation and ran a hand absently across the back of his neck. “You want anything?” 

“Sure. But I don’t imagine you have anything to eat or drink since it seems you haven’t been here in quite some time.” A thin trail from her finger was left in the dust on the mantel as she rubbed her finger over it. 

He chuckled and shrugged. “Ah, no. But if you want something I can go out and get it.”

“Thank you. All I want right now is to rest.” She gave a halfhearted smile and ran a hand through her hair. 

“Dammit, right. I should have thought of that.” He tripped over his words, his tongue seemingly unable to communicate with his brain.  She shivered in the dim light of the cabin and he pushed past her to begin tossing kindling under the small pile of wood in the fireplace. 

She watched him going through the motions of starting the fire, holding himself back from finding out what it was that he wanted to know the most. What had happened to her at the compound that had caused her blackout? Why was she standing here in an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere instead of at the bottom of Alkali Lake like she should have been? 

She was asking herself those very same questions. 

Fire roaring, he stepped back from the fireplace and stared blindly at the flames, unsure of where to begin. There were so many things he wanted to ask her. Tell her how much he missed her.  But he felt the words clumsily falling over each other in his throat, unable to coherently form sentences. There were so many things he wished to do and it was a struggle not to cross the room to her, close the distance between them and embrace her tightly in his arms. Take her in them and never release her.   

It was too right having her here. Having her standing before him. 

Death had not changed her, only made her more beautiful. Every detail was just as he remembered it. Every nuance that was entirely Jean. 

How the hell was he going to stay here with her for a few days while they laid low? His restraint already walked on a very thin wire that was assuredly going to snap if he didn’t get some air. 

Clear air. 

Air that didn’t carry her scent. 

“Logan.” 

Her voice broke through his concentration, reminded him that she had expressed a desire to get some rest. After everything they’d just been through, the request was perfectly understandable. 

“Right. Bedroom’s upstairs. I’ll give you the condensed grand tour on the way up.” 

She grabbed his arm when he tried to pass, held a firm hand up to his chest to stop him from exiting the room. 

“What are you doing?” His voice dropped in pitch as his heart tripped in disbelief and confusion when she ran her knuckles warmly against his cheek. 

He smelled like clean air, fresh and woodsy, like he had just taken a long hike through a forest of freshly blooming trees on the barest edge of spring. The scent was comforting to her, calming against the strange feelings swirling inside of her as she tried to sort herself out.  The familiarity of it brought a welcoming warmness to the very depths of her. 

Pushing it all aside, she brought her face to within inches of his. “Something I probably should have done a long time ago.” 

Their mouths met and he inhaled sharply, his eyes closing as his heart skipped a few beats. 

A dream. 

This was all just a fantasy, he was dreaming and he was really back at the mansion, sleeping in his bed. This whole ghost business and rescuing Jean were just some elaborate dream his brain had cooked up in an effort to get him to cope with her death. There was no way that this was actually happening. 

Not a shot in hell.

The distinct pop of the first button on his jeans being released had his eyes flying open in shock. He audibly gasped when her hand closed over him, her firm grip clearly indicating that this was no dream.


	12. When the World Fell Away

A wailing guitar rift screamed at deafening decibels, bouncing off the decrepit tree trunks that surrounded the cabin. A single shaft of pale yellow light shone down through the window to the untouched snow that surrounded the aging building. Cold, icy wind blew against the panes of the windows, screaming to be let inside the safe and warm confines of the structure. 

Its wails, however, were not loud enough to be drowned out by the music pounding from inside. The notes screeched from the speakers loudly and rhythmically, sexual in nature. It lapped at the two occupants, growing larger and louder in undulating chords that filled up the room with its presence.  Surrounding them, comforting them, in hard rocking chords. It is almost as if it is another being in the room with them, an entity unto itself. 

The drab yellow chair that appeared to be on its last legs stood out in the center of the living room. A fire that blazed in the fireplace cast long shadows on the hearth, caressing the shadows of the figures in the chair. The occupants of the chair were oblivious to the howling wind or the tattered condition of the chair beneath them. Their focus is on themselves and the music barreling out of the waist high speakers. 

He trailed an index finger slowly down the line of her stomach and across her abdomen, leaving a clear trail through the sweat that slicked her skin. An audible sigh escaped from between her lips as his hands slipped around to fully encase her hips. Her stomach muscles clenched under his palms, adjusting to the angle as he guided her body to his. 

She moved over him, around him, clenching him to her so tightly that his hands threatened to release their vice-like grip on her hips as the music seemed to drive her movements. Her back bowed away from him, forcing her hips forward and down. The hiss escaped from this throat before be could stop it. 

He’d forgotten. Forgotten the feeling of having heated flesh pressed up against his own. The urgent need to touch. To be touched. 

Sex, you could get from anyone, at anytime, whenever you needed, or wanted it. 

This was different, was something more.  

It was surprisingly unexpected, even for as long as he had been around. It was a new heat mixed with what he remembered of the last time he’d had sex.

 Her fingernails dug deeply into the skin on his forearms and he clung desperately to the wish that he wasn’t a mutant with regenerative capabilities. With his healing factor in full swing the marks she was leaving would fade within seconds from the release of her constricting grip. He wanted her mark on him. A reminder of their connection at this moment, this second, when she was oblivious to anything but him. 

Of this. 

Of what she was doing to drive him slowly mad. 

Her hands slid over the bunching muscles in his arms as he set them both on a steady, rhythmical pace and she released her tight hold on his forearms. She lifted her hands so that they closed over the tensing muscles at the back of his neck.  

The thrum of his voice in his throat vibrated through her hands and traveled through her in waves. It merged with the music swirling around them, spiraling her upward to where nothing existed but pure sensation. She halted their progress, taking full and complete control of the situation. Her hands lifted now from his neck, sliding down to come between their bodies, fingers trailing long delicate touches over the entire length of him as she hovered herself just near the tip of him. 

He fought to keep his eyes open against the sensations. He knew closing them would lead down the path of nothing but the pleasure from her touch and he wanted to see her eyes as she touched him. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder and rested it lightly there as she lowered herself to him, giving him back the control he struggled to contain. 

She could feel the tightening of the muscles that lay under her skin, heard the roaring of the fire in the room over everything else that was screaming for acknowledgement. Could hear the calling of the flames, each one individually wanting to seduce her with their heat and mystery. 

She ignored them. 

Pushed the blaze aside with great effort and forced herself to singularly focus on him and him alone. He was determined to drive them both slowly insane and she would willingly take that plunge with him. Sensation layered over sensation as her fingers dug into the worn custard yellow of the back of the chair again. His hands sliding slowly away from her hips with a soft groan that emitted from his throat. She braced her legs against the river of chills that traveled up her spine as his fingers traced a path against the bones. The tension quickly faded to pleasure deep inside of her and she relaxed into it. 

Lifting her head she could see into the depths of his eyes. The loneliness and utter sensation of being so lost she would never be found swam on the surface of his irises. She struggled against the overwhelming desire to dive into them and never return. She couldn’t stand to see the layers of pain and anger floating just under the surface, even at a moment such as this. 

Could see him questioning this even as it was happening. He believed this still to be a dream, a wasted moment in his sleep that he could smile fondly over later. Something had pained him so horribly that he couldn’t relax his hold for even just a split second to take this journey with her. She wanted to know, needed to know what it was that eluded him. 

The words stuck in her throat, quelling the idea of asking him what had hurt him so deeply that even in a moment of supreme rapture, it read so stark and clear in his eyes. 

She somehow knew the answer. 

Her. 

She was the reason his eyes were so troubled. There was no apologizing, no fixing what had occurred in the past. There was only now. She couldn’t apologize for the choices she made in the past, the actions she knowingly took before. She could only control what happened from this moment forward. 

Realizing that, she leaned forward to him, sliding her hands from the back edge of the chair to clasp his face between her long fingers. Her skin was fire on his face, her touch scorching and he flinched as the heat increased as she looked as him. Easily, she dropped her guard and invited the haunting power of the fire; allowing it to roam freely within her. 

Her skin paled, becoming nearly transparent before taking on a golden cast similar to the fire that roared behind them. Startled, he grabbed for her only to wince in pain when his palms touched her overheated skin. Her mouth pressed against his and he was convinced he was holding a living flame between his hands. He fought to break contact but she only tightened her grip and pressed herself harder against him. 

The pain elevated to a level he wasn’t even sure he could withstand much longer despite his healing factor. Gasping for air, their mouths broke contact and he unexpectedly cried out, startled when he saw a raging fire burning all around them. The living room of his cabin was completely engulfed in flames. The intense heat was suffocating and his breath began rasping through his throat as the muscles clenched in protection against the high temperature.  

Stunned, he stared mesmerized at the blaze he saw raging in her eyes. 

Despite the alarms blaring in his head, the pull of the fire was seductive. It urged surrender without question. Without remorse. The flames demanded he give, offering no promise of an exchange. He fought against it, struggling to push against its relentless assault. His throat closed fully, his breathing labored and nearly non-existent at this point. 

She was going to kill him, burn him alive. 

“James.” Jean’s voice whispered the name against his lips and he jerked in surprise, questioning reality even as he felt the world around him slip. 

The flames rejoiced, consuming everything around him as his guard fell a fraction. The searing heat captured him in its grasp and he could no longer resist its stronghold. 

Comforting warmth washed over him despite the panic seizing his heart.  Something inside of him released its hold, a hold that he had not even been aware of. The years of waiting and knowing an end would not come drained from deep inside of him. 

He fought no longer, wanting and welcoming the finality that surrounded him. 

Wanting this life to just be over, completed. 

He gave himself over; succumbed easily to the blaze. His muscles went lax as he welcomed the darkness with open arms.


	13. Defining This Skin I Shed

A soft whir, similar to a dial spinning on a lock, resonated in his ears. A figure appeared before him, a stark contrast of blinding light in the vast expanse of blackness that seemed to surround him. 

This was death, he thought. Final, glorious death. 

The light surrounding the figure dimmed to a pale green and allowed the image before him to come into sharper focus. 

Jean? 

Were they merely back to the ghostly mess, the hell that they had just been through all imagined and he wasn’t really dead after all? 

Wait, he thought. The features of the figure came into clearer focus and while he saw the features were similar to Jean, he could also see the marked differences. The similarities were there however, hauntingly real. 

In his mind, he heard a soft click of a lock opening. A whirlwind of images flooded behind his eyes. They were too much, they overwhelmed him at all once and he clutched his head in his hands as it exploded in pain. 

Another click, this one louder, reverberated through him and the screaming pain inside of his head ceased immediately. Opening his eyes, he found himself standing before a large house with a vast expanse of windows spread over the front of the façade. Large turrets reached for the sky further adding to the mansion’s castle like appearance. 

He examined the structure before him and felt that he should somehow know this building, this place. He couldn’t explain why he felt the way he did, but he had this overwhelming sense of deja-vu. The front door opened and a small boy dashed through it only to be immediately followed by a laughing redheaded girl. They ran directly toward him, joy evident on their faces as they sped along the path. As they approached, their forms faded and the tinkling of laughter was all that remained. He moved to step forward and was startled when the scenery around him changed. 

He now stood in the center of a large room, the ornate decoration of the area screaming to him that he was nowhere that he recognized. The tapping of heels sounded on the tiles he saw just beyond the entryway. A woman appeared then, her chestnut hair drawn up in a simple bun at the back of her head. 

She entered the room and crossed quickly, as if she had a single purpose, to one of the large bookshelves on the opposite wall. A worn and obviously well loved book was returned to its shelf. Her clothing was similar to that of the children’s that he had seen earlier, but it still wasn’t clothing that he was overly familiar with. Jeans and t-shirts it wasn’t. 

Where was he exactly? 

As he silently contemplated what was happening to him, she turned. Her eyes drinking in the words of the new book that rested in her hands. 

What he saw in those eyes stopped him cold. 

She passed just inches from him and he turned, watching her murmur to herself as she exited the room. He knew those eyes, he just couldn’t figure out why. 

The room faded around him and this time he found himself standing in the center of a darkened bedroom. The curtains were drawn tightly against the vivid sunlight that lurked beneath the velvet fringes at the bottom. The woman he saw earlier now sat in a stuffed chair next to the bed, reading quietly from the book clasped between her hands. The covers on the bed undulated in waves as the figure beneath them moved. A small boy with tousled brown hair sat up in the bed, his eyes rimmed red from a recent crying fit.  They spoke in hushed voices and he struggled in vain to understand their words. She nodded her head and set the book on the nightstand next to the child’s bed, crossing the room quickly when a soft knock sounded on the solid wood door. She smiled in thanks as she took the tray from the servant and made her way back to the bed. She urged the boy to eat the soup she offered, but he refused. Disappearing instead under the heap of sheets and burrowing to the foot of the bed. 

The servant appeared at the woman’s side, advising her to leave the boy for now.  “He will eat when he is hungry, miss.  The doctors advised we leave him be.” she whispered in hushed tones as she shuffled the woman from the room.  

He stared after them, keeping one eye on the mound in the center of the bed. A muffled fit of coughs caused the sheets to jump and a small hand appeared from under them to grab wildly for the glass of water sitting on the stand. 

The tan rug beneath his feet faded and was replaced with a lush green carpet of grass. The sun shone brightly overhead and children’s laughter echoed in his ears. A splash of water garnered his attention and he turned to find the children he saw earlier jumping off the shore of a small lake. The azure blue waters surface sparkled like a thousand small diamonds before the girl disappeared under the surface of the water. 

Something was different this time; there were two boys now instead of one. He closely scanned the faces of the three and recognized one of the children as the sickly young boy he had seen curled up in the bed.  Apparently whatever sickness the boy had been suffering from had passed and left him full of life and vigor. A smile played at the corners of his mouth as the children and the scene around him faded. 

Green filled his vision. The smell of freshly cut leaves scented in his nose and he turned to see one of the boys he saw earlier standing near the bushes with the redheaded girl. 

They giggled and bent their heads low, sharing in some special secret known only to themselves. His fingers trailed over the smooth skin of her cheek and she stared up at him, clearly enchanted at the prospect of young love. 

Something was wrong. 

The boy’s eyes clouded, darkening ruthlessly with violence. She cried out in shock as the boy grabbed her wrists, whispering in her ear the plans he had in mind for her. 

“No!” Logan lunged forward, intending to assist the girl but came up short when he passed through the teenagers. She cried out again and he spun around, helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of him. 

A knife appeared and this time the girl screamed. 

“Rose!” A door to the house slammed shut and feet pounded on the ground in a frenzy to rush to the scene. The once sickly boy appeared around a row of hedges and stopped short when he saw the scene before him. 

Logan silently urged the boy to carry out what he himself had been planning but his heart fell when the boy turned and ran back into the confines of the house, yelling over his shoulder that he would go get his father to help. 

The girl cried out again as she was tossed to the ground, forgotten by teenager. “We’ll just keep this to ourselves, you hear me?” 

She silently nodded in agreement and buried her face in her hands. 

The green bushes faded around him and Logan wondered just what all this had to do with him. Why was he here and what the hell was going on? If this was suppose to be life after death, he would have rather faced down Magneto and his Brotherhood than face a jumble of images and scenes that had nothing to do with him. At least then he was prepared for what was coming, he knew what to expect. 

A darkened cabin appeared around him now, the room in utter chaos. A lone figure stood in the center of the room, a shot gun held firmly clasped between rough hands.  The man turned and Logan’s chest clenched tightly in panic. 

His eyes. 

The man walked forward towards him and Logan recognized the haunting loneliness staring back at him. Recognized the pent up anger and violence freely flowing unchecked in those eyes. He stared at them in the mirror countless time and was so used to it, it had ceased to bother him anymore. The man passed through him and Logan felt a chill race down his spine.

Was this really who he thought it was? 

Was he really seeing the man he was before the Weapon X program captured him and altered him beyond repair? 

Had the process he attributed his short tempered nature to really have nothing to do with it? 

The cabin door closed as the man exited and he sighed out, dejected that the knowledge he had craved for so long brought no discernible closure. 

He rubbed his fingers over his tired eyes, his exhaustion so palpable, he could taste it.  It was over now; he knew the truth and saw there was nothing he had gained from this that he hadn’t already known. He had expected a newfound understanding of himself, but was instead left empty-handed. He pleaded silently for this to end. He had been shown enough. The revelation had done nothing but to further explain the void inside of him. 

The candlelight in the cabin faded and he cursed silently as he found himself back in the house with the man again. 

The man crossed the room and firmly grasped the woman’s upper arm. “C’mon, we’re getting out of here.” 

“Thomas, you can’t be serious.” The woman grabbed for the man’s hand, fighting against his constricting grip. 

The door behind him opened and he saw a man dressed in a long nightgown enter the room, a candle held firmly in his hand.  “What is going on in here?” 

“John, Mr. Logan was just leaving.” The woman stammered out as she wrenched her arm from the fierce grip. If he needed any further validation of his origin, he had just gotten it when she stated the man’s name. 

The man called John stepped forward, a puzzled expression drawing his eyebrows down. “Why are you here?” 

Thomas exploded in a blur of motion and clutched the front of the linen nightgown, a string of curses spilling from his lips.  Confusion prevailed and the sudden blast from the shotgun startled the occupants of the room into silence. A high pitched wail resonated from the door of the room and he watched his doppelganger turn to face the sick young child, now a teenager, standing in the doorway. 

The man’s back was to him and the boy disappeared as he launched himself at the man. His view blocked, he saw his twin lift his hands in defense against the boy and heard the snikt he was so familiar with. Both men fell to the ground with a thud and rolled in a tangle of body parts before coming to a halt in front of the large bay window. 

Logan turned his back to the scene, unable to watch the horror unfolding in front of him any longer. Has this all been really necessary? What was the purpose of showing him what he had known about himself all along other than to just confirm his suspicions? 

He pleaded silently for relief again when the woman’s startled cries raised to ear splitting levels. Turning, he braced himself for the bloodshed he was guaranteed to see. If there was one thing he knew, it was that killing was never a pretty affair. Most especially by him. What he saw however turned his insides to liquid. He felt himself stumble, drop to his knees in amazement at what he saw. The young, sickly teenage boy knelt over the body of the man the woman had called Thomas Logan. 

The man’s chest was a mass of blood and skin, nearly unrecognizable to those in the room. The boy howled in pain as he stared in disbelief at the three, six inch long bone claws extruding from the backs of each of his hands. 

Logan inhaled sharply and blinked in surprise when he found Jean still settled in his lap, her lips still firmly pressed against his. 

He was back in his cabin. 

Her hands broke contact with his face and he struggled to rein in the violent pounding of his heart against his rib cage. His head swam in astonishment and he felt his body begin to shake ferociously in shock as fear raced through him. Jean cradled him to her, her whispered voice soothing in his ear. She began to rock him softly, a calming motion against the shock permeating through his body. After several minutes, she felt the tension relax from his body and he dropped against the back of the chair, his muscles spent from exertion, the rush of the memories overwhelming. 

Lifting his chin, she saw the pain in his eyes no more. They stared back at her clear and calm. The storm usually clouding them was eradicated and her heart surged with pride that she had been able to be the one to give it to him. In an explosion of movement, he reared up, clutching her to him as if his life was staked on her presence there. She jerked in surprise and he felt her muscles clench around him, reminding him of their connection. Emotional upheaval forgotten, he lifted his hips, pushing against her. His need for her right at this moment mind numbing and he realized there would be no rest until they were both sated. 

A deep sigh escaped from between her lips as she pressed back against him. Her legs a tangle of skin around his hips and the arms of the chair, urging him to not hold back. Her need as evident as his. He buried his hands in her hair, clasping one of them around the back of her neck for support. Tension built again but this time it was welcomed, greedily consumed. She urged more from him, more than he even thought he was capable of. 

His release was slow, the cresting of a wave that never seemed to crash onto the shore. Once she was sure he’d given all he had, she demanded more and unabashedly took his offering as he deliberately pummeled himself into her.


	14. The Morning After is Always the Darkest

She knew the instant he was awake. He lay motionless on the bed, feigning sleep.  She smiled, realizing she enjoyed this. Enjoyed watching him war between sleep and waking.  As the battle raged, she wondered if she had done the right thing, taken the right steps for him to have at least a slight understanding of who he was; just where it was that he had come from. She longed to show him everything, unlock the portions of his mind that would give him an even deeper understanding of himself.

But she had sensed last night that she had made the right choice to have given him what she had thus far. She knew everything he was, everything that was locked away from him for so long. She could see it flowing inside of him like a raging river and she longed to collapse the dam that would flood his consciousness with the truth.

Later.  

There would be time for more later. 

For now, she would draw comfort in the fact that he at least knew the basis from which he came. She had given him an anchor point from which to begin. 

Her hand grazed along his cheek and she smiled at the touch of her skin against his. His brown eyes were clear as they opened. No trace of the hollowness that she had seen yesterday that had caused her to take such drastic measures. She wondered exactly what the repercussions would be now. She sat down on the edge of the bed and his hand lifted to idly rest on her knee. His hand was hot on her skin through the fabric of her slacks and she rested her hand over his.  Sleep faded from his eyes and he tugged at the sheet covering him to the waist. 

“Sleep well?” she asked tentatively, unsure if he was angry with her. 

He nodded. Arguably, it was probably the best sleep he’d had as far back as he could remember. For once, no nightmares plagued him, no slices of repressed memories surfaced during his slumber. 

He had been able to sleep clearheaded and peacefully. 

A welcome change. 

Lifting his head from the pillow, he propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at her. 

Her nerves jumped slightly at the loss of contact between them but she willed herself to relax and not let any of her apprehension show to him. She’d made the intrusion last night uninvited. Most people didn’t take kindly to such an event. Despite the fact she knew him as well as she did, she still wasn’t sure of his reaction to the events that had played out in his head. 

Her answer came a few moments later when he pushed himself up to a sitting position. The sheet puddled around his waist unnoticed. His hand, warm from its place under the pillow, clenched around her neck and he pulled her mouth to his. An array of tastes slid across his tongue when he kissed her. She’d been up for quite some time before him and had already eaten. His stomach rumbled in protest and she pressed her forehead to his after breaking contact, suppressing the urge to laugh out loud. 

He wanted to say something, anything, but any words he could utter paled in comparison to how he felt. There seemed to be no right words to express his level of gratitude to her. 

Licking his lips, he settled on the simplest and easiest words he could think of. “Thank you.” 

She seemed taken aback at first, stunned that he had spoken in the first place. Then her features warmed, her expression softening and she returned the smile he was sending her. However, trepidation still fluttered on the edges of her subconscious. She batted away the feelings but their hold seemed sure and resolute. 

“No need.” She said simply, she too deciding the simplest words were the easiest reflection of how she felt. But she knew that soon he would want to say more, as would she. For now though, she squeezed his knee lightly through the fabric of the sheet and rose from the bed. “Why don’t you take a shower and get cleaned up? I’ve got fresh coffee when you’re done.” 

He lifted his shoulder in a faint shrug and moved to rise from the bed. “Sure.” 

She disappeared through the bedroom door and closed it firmly behind her as she left.  He was thankful she had left him alone for a bit, left him to sort out the raging hurricane of confusion spinning wildly inside of him. He had not had time to fully digest everything that was revealed to him last night. The images, the sounds, the names. He probably wasn’t any closer to figuring out his past now than he had been before the evening’s events, but at least for now he had somewhere to start. It was more than he had to go on than he’d had before. 

He knew only the name. A name that would compel him to discover all he could. 

It was his name, he thought as he stepped into the shower. 

James Howlett. 

The name rebounded off the bathroom tiles as he said it, the sound of the letters together foreign even in his own voice. As he stood letting the lukewarm water wash over him, he wondered if he would ever get used to the sound of it. The name was such a vast difference from Logan, the name he was so familiar with because it was the one thing he clung to that he remembered after escaping from the Weapon X project. 

It was the one thing he remembered and it wasn’t even his own, he thought belatedly as he stepped out of the shower and began drying off. 

He walked into the kitchen five minutes later and saw her absently staring out the window at the snow covered ground. Tension lined the soft edges of her face and she appeared to be in deep concentration about something. 

He winced when his bare feet contacted with cold tile as he crossed the room. As he approached her, the porcelain beneath his feet grew warm. Strange, he noted, but quickly rescinded his opinion when he stepped up behind her and felt the air around her vibrating. 

He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Morning.” 

She jumped, startled to find him standing behind her. His hands settled on her shoulders, calming the adrenaline racing through her veins. The air stilled around her, returning to normal and she turned her focus away from the window. 

His hair was still wet from his shower and droplets of water dripped down onto the cotton fabric of his t-shirt.  “Want some coffee?” 

“Sur-“ The word stuck in his throat when he turned and saw two steaming mugs of coffee sitting on the counter. He had just passed there seconds before and the counter had been empty. His eyes slid over to the coffee maker standing on the counter, cold and empty. 

Blowing out a breath, he palmed the two mugs and brought them back to where she stood.  They drank silently from their cups, enjoying the robust flavor of the coffee beans. He never thought a cup of coffee could taste so exquisite. Setting his empty cup on the counter, he settled one hip against the laminated wood and eyed her speculatively. First things first. “Need I even ask why you seem like you’re ready to explode into flames at any second?” The derision in his voice was evident and he instantly felt sorry for it. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you sure that’s what you want to talk about first?” 

He shrugged. “That is why I’m here in the first place, isn’t it? I mean, it isn’t everyday that a ghostly figure appears in my room over my bed and urges me to come find her.” 

“And it isn’t everyday that I find myself being held against my will by some crazed psychopath.” 

“Welcome to my life darlin’.” He murmured, pushing himself away from the counter and crossing to her. “For now, we discuss this. The rest will come later.” 

He disappeared through the archway to the den and frowning, she placed her empty mug into the sink. Would the rest come later and just what was the rest anyway?  She wanted to talk with him about everything and nothing all at the same time. Where did one start with those sorts of feelings waging a battle within them? He’d push it away, shove back anything that was getting in his way and causing him grief. She wished for the ability to harden herself to emotions that way; life would be easier in the long run, wouldn’t it? He had this uncanny knack for it, an effortless way of conducting himself when others would crack. 

They could start at the beginning she supposed, even though they’d jumped in feet first and were treading water in the deep end at the moment. It wasn’t like her, wasn’t her style. She thought things through first, weighed and measured everything before moving even so much as a pinky toe. There was something about him that made her want to throw caution to the wind and disregard everything and everyone. The sound of movement in the other room caught her attention and she quietly followed him into the room.


	15. Revelations of the Wolverine

He paced when he read. 

That was her single thought as she stepped into the room and saw him quietly padding back and forth in front of the fireplace. His eyes slowly scanned the page his finger held in place and his lips soundlessly moved in cadence. She couldn’t help but smile and lean back against the doorjamb to observe from a distance. Too far away, she couldn’t make out the title of the book he was devouring but knew for certain it wasn’t the first time he had read the volume in his hand. 

The edges of the covers were worn and shabby, the ends of the pages brown with age. 

Unquestionably a well loved book. 

His finger tapped the page he was studying twice before lifting to rub away the fatigue biting at his eyes. The book closed with a snap and his free hand rose to massage the knot forming at the back of his neck. Tension clenched despite the full night of sleep he’d gotten. Turning, he twitched when he saw her standing there and quickly replaced the book on the shelf in an effort to cover his embarrassment. She saw it however and was surprised, especially from him. He should have been able to tell she entered the room even before she walked through the archway. 

His guard was down and she knew it signaled that he had passed the point of exhaustion long ago even though he said he’d slept well. 

He had stoked a raging fire and she eyed the flames skeptically as she stepped fully into the room, wary of their presence. Unsure of exactly what was happening inside of her despite the minute semblance of control that she seemed to have for at least the moment. 

She settled herself onto the couch across the room, putting as much distance between herself and the fire as she could. 

He bent, shifting the logs around in the firebox and positioned a fresh log for fuel. Replacing the poker to the hearth, he turned and dropped into the yellow chair they had occupied last night. It had always been his favorite chair, now it just held even more reason to never be trashed. 

“Where do we start?” 

She noted the suddenly clear look in his eyes and knew he had, yet again, pushed aside any weakness he felt in himself. Fine, she could play that game too.  “The beginning. Middle. End. Just starting period is as good a place as any.” 

“You want to know how, don’t you?” 

“The how I can figure out. You’re sitting right here in front of me.” 

“That’s not what I meant. You want to know how I was able to give you something you’ve been fighting for for years, all in just a matter of seconds.” He nodded in confirmation. 

Pushing himself up from the chair, he walked across the room wanting as much distance from it as he could manage. He didn’t want this memory, this discussion, lingering on the chair to override the intimate one from the previous night. It didn’t belong there and wasn’t welcomed. 

She motioned for him to come sit by her and waited while he settled himself on the couch. “I don’t know really, I can’t explain it myself. I can see it, locked away inside of you just as clearly as you’re sitting here before me. I can’t make out the details, the intricacies, but I know how to unlock the trigger.” 

She reached toward him, brushed a few strands of drying hair back from his forehead.  Her eyes closed as her finger slid down the side of his temple and immediately he saw a flash of himself, sweating and writhing around in a tangle of sheets and limbs. 

Reality snapped back into focus and the trailing edge of the rush had him exhaling sharply. “Whoa.” 

She smiled slyly at him, the violent colors of a fire dying in her eyes as the surge of power withdrew. “Seems like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit there. You and whoever that was.” Absently, she rubbed her clasped hands together and waited for him to regain his composure. 

“Can you see all of me? My past?” 

She nodded hesitantly. “Yes. But here’s where it gets gray for me. Knowing too much all at once could be devastating.” 

“For who exactly?” he snapped. 

“You. Me. Everyone.” 

“Why?” 

“I’ve been asking myself that very same question. Logan, there’s a reason why you don’t remember. A purpose for you not being able to recall the events of your past.” 

“Yeah, someone wiped it.” 

“No. You’ve been led to believe that. But they didn’t wipe your mind at all. Portions of your brain have been partitioned off, sealed from you so that you would have no recollection of them. That’s why I can see it so clearly.” 

“But Callista said that they eradicated everything in order to have the perfect machine.” 

“Since when do you believe every word that comes out of someone’s mouth like that? You should know better Logan. You would have been no better to them than a vegetable if they’d have done that. In order to begin to train you as they did they needed a basis, a jumping off point, otherwise they would have had to even retrain you to walk. So they merely sealed off the portions they thought insignificant to their plan. It had no value to them, but they realized it was a valuable piece of what made you – you.” 

“How cavalier of them.” He shifted on the couch, the worn springs pressing uncomfortably into his back. He realized something, thought about it for a few moments before asking. “How do you know all this?” 

“What do you think she was trying to do to me, have a tea party?” She responded irritably. 

Suddenly uncomfortable, he stood and idly began running his fingers over the volumes of books on the inset shelves again. Reading old classics had always been a secret he kept to himself. Storing the assortment of books and absorbing himself in them whenever he was holed up here. In them, he was someone else. 

He wasn’t a mutant with an adamantium laced skeleton. He wasn’t haunted by a past that he knew nothing about or angered by figures that were no more than phantoms to him. 

In them, the freedom to be anyone he wanted lay before him. 

Of course, he wouldn’t freely admit this to anyone. 

But he understood the passion for the bound pages now, clearly saw the reason he coveted them so. Small pieces of memories had begun to show themselves to him since the previous night. They were incomplete and fractured but they were there nonetheless. He couldn’t ignore them even if he had wanted to. The small, sickly boy lay in an oversized bed, voraciously devouring the hardback clutched between his thin hands. Now, it didn’t take a mind reader to know that ill boy was himself. These memories wouldn’t exist if his memory had been completely erased. They were in there somewhere. Buried deep and just waiting to be sought out and revealed. 

She was right. 

Too much too soon could be a very dangerous thing. Despite the urge to know everything, learn why certain things about him were the way they were, he resigned himself to the fact that time was the only thing that would help.  “Fine,” he acquiesced with the knowledge he had for now, he needed to be happy with the pieces that he was aware of.


	16. The Girl Always Marries the Good Guy

“Where did you learn that?” Her voice breathy as she panted, her head spinning wildly out of control as she slid down off the back edge of the orgasm. Nerves fired one after the other, dragging out the euphoria well past the point of comprehension. She pushed a hand through her damp hair and sighed heavily as her nerves seemed to regain some sense of order. 

He rolled off of her and settled on his side, pressing his chest into her sweaty side. “Here and there.”  Guess he could consider his trip to the bar as more than just a scouting mission. The things you learned in establishments like that apparently proved invaluable. His fingers trailed down her side and sent a new river of waves rushing along her body as nerves fired again, the fresh clutch of pleasure low in her belly. 

“Stop that.” She slapped half-heartedly at his hand, not really wanting him to but realizing if they were going to ever get anywhere conversationally they were really going to have to crawl out of this bed. 

He smirked and levered himself a few inches from her by turning onto his back, his hands cradling the back of his head. “What does this do for your theory?” 

“What theory?” 

“The one about the girl marrying the good guy and all?” 

“You are the good guy. Sometimes we women are just too blind to see it.” Frowning, she shifted positions, settling herself comfortably next of him. 

He shrugged, setting his hand lightly to her hip. “Really? Could have fooled me.” 

“You’re here, aren’t you? The good guy is the one who, when you need them the most, comes when you ask.” 

One corner of his mouth lifted up in mischievous amusement. “Oh really?” 

“Pervert.” Her lips curled into a smirk as she poked a finger into his side.

He feigned a flinch and chuckled. “Guilty.” 

“Seriously.” 

He shrugged again, sliding his hand around to rest on the back of her thighs now.  “I’m sure if you would have asked Scott he would have come.” 

The memory replayed in her head. “He seemed a little preoccupied with Emma at the time.” She said wryly, frowning a little at the thought of seeing Scott in the arms of another woman. Twin smiles turning up the corners of their mouths as they slept soundly in each others arms. 

“Oh.” Responding quietly, the image in her head appeared in his, giving him a clearer picture of what she meant.  He’d seen that image himself, having walked in on them, obviously before it reached that point. 

Thankfully. 

“He was hurting Jean. We all were.” He shrugged off the thought.  Frowned himself now when the trailing edges of it wouldn’t release their hold as quickly as he would have liked. 

“Did you jump into bed with the first thing that walked along to comfort you?” 

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Point taken.” 

“Everyone deals with their grief differently Logan. Scott chose the way to deal with his.” 

“It’s going to be one hell of a shock when you walk back through that door.” 

“If.” 

“What?” Surprise had him shifting to rest his head up on one of his hands. 

“If I walk back through those doors.” 

“Why do you say that, of course you’ll go back?” Puzzled, he found himself staring at her in shock. 

“I figured you of all people would understand.” 

Thinking, he remembered times he reluctantly walked back through those heavy oak doors; wanting instead to be the loner that he was, but feeling bound to do whatever it was that he promised he would do. “I do.” 

“Then there you have it.” 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” 

She sighed, the words sitting heavy in her throat before she even began speaking them. “Scott’s moved on with his life. He obviously isn’t someone I knew like I thought I did. I don’t begrudge him for it Logan. I’m glad he was able to move on; some of us should have it so easy. Besides, I don’t hear you complaining.” She poked a finger into his chest wanting to add weight to her last sentence and lighten the mood. 

His eyes flashed with amusement, a brief, pleasurable thought back to earlier. Of what he wanted to do later. “Not in the least.” 

“I had a lot of time to think, far more than I think you’re giving me credit for. Remember, to me, time seemed to stop and it felt like a hell of a lot longer than just a month. It wasn’t something that was an easy decision.” 

“I don’ expect it would be.” 

She slid under the covers next to him, settled herself snugly against his warm body. Her own skin itched, made her feel uncomfortable inside of it at the moment. “I’m still trying to figure this all out Logan. Trying to come to terms with all these things that are happening to me, with what’s going on with me. Get comfortable with what I did back there at Callista’s labs.” 

Wanting to leave no room for questions about her actions, he spoke firmly. “You did what you had to do to survive.” 

She frowned, not as sure of his words as they settled around her. Talk about a mood killer. Pushing it aside, she pressed her lips to his shoulder. “Can we not talk about this anymore right now?” 

“Sure.” His arm wrapped around her, pulled her closer to him. Her steady breathing minutes later signaled she had finally succumbed to sleep. An overwhelming sense of dread filled him and he fought to push it away and forget about it. It had been following him relentlessly for the past few days and it was becoming a constant struggle to suppress it. 

He wasn’t so comfortable with their situation that he felt safe, was smart enough to know better. He wanted her back at the school, back under the protection of more than just his skills; especially with the strange and unknown things that were happening to her, even he wasn’t capable of handling some of them. 

She didn’t seem ready to thrust herself back into civilization and who could blame her, honestly. He could read a continuous reluctance from her, as if she held something back even still. He was certain pride played a huge factor in her reluctance to return. A thread of control would help as well. Her love for the students seemed to be preventing her from returning to the one place that she called home because she felt she would do them more harm than good. 

She murmured something in her sleep and he settled himself back into the pillows, his eyes growing heavy. Time to shut his brain down and try to find solace in his dreams.


	17. Breath

He noticed a thin sliver of light coming from under the bathroom door as he sat up in bed. The faint sounds of running water could be heard through the maple door and he threw back the sheets, rising from the bed. Icy cold tiles contacted with the pads of his feet and he winced slightly as he walked across the room. Dim light filled the room and his eyes slowly adjusted to the faint light. He knew from previous experience of living in the same house with her for years that there were some occasions where she indulged and would take a bath or shower by only candlelight. The yellowish haze that bathed the room now however was different. The light didn't flicker like a candle would when illuminating a room; this was a steady and constant glow instead. 

He stepped farther into the room and the shower stall came into view. Inhaling sharply, he watched as she stood in the middle of a cascading fall of water.  He vainly tried to convince himself that she was just merely taking a shower but when his eyes adjusted to the dim light what he saw was somewhat hard to believe. 

She was indeed taking a shower, however, her skin was glowing a hazy gold in the dark. Logan watched as her skin seemed to flow and change, much like he imagined a flowing river of lava might look. Unconsciously, he stepped forward, blinded by the fascination of what stood before him. 

God she was beautiful. 

The changing colors of her skin were hypnotic and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He found himself not even questioning what was happening, he just accepted what was. This was who she was now; he was willing to accept her no matter what. 

The shock of cold water snapped him from his reverie and her eyes flew open in surprise at his sharp intake of breath when his teeth began chattering instantly from the frigid water. 

She reached around him to shut off the water supply but he blocked her neatly by shifting them both from underneath the spray. She shook her head no and pulled away, drawing herself back so that the drops of water flowed down her back. 

She found the water soothing, a sharp contrast to the fire that seemed to be raging inside of her. She tried to ignore it, push aside the relentless urges, but they were becoming increasingly difficult to brush away. Her skin tingled, almost as if it had a mind of its own. The glowing was becoming brighter and stronger. The icy water seemed to be the only thing that brought relief to the heat. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He stepped forward to her again, grinding his teeth to hide his flinch as the icy spray washed over him. His skin acclimated itself within a few hellishly long minutes. 

“It’s all right.” His hands grazed over her hips and despite the frigid water, her skin burned under his palms. So the light show wasn’t just a fancy trick. Her skin really was on fire. “Question is, are you all right?” 

She nodded once, biting her lip as she did. Should she tell him? Tell him that she didn’t know how much longer she could contain what was inside her. What was screaming inside of her for release. Would he even begin to understand when she tried to explain that she had nearly set the entire house on fire just hours ago? With just a simple flick of her wrist? 

He watched the worry swim in her eyes, the inner battle she was having with herself over whether or not to explain things; a battle she was fighting to hide from him. Or at least try to. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to hear about what she wanted to say, too afraid that he was going to know. To understand what it was like to have something inside of you, taunting you with its presence. Maybe what he felt occasionally wasn’t as strong as what was inside of her but that didn’t make it any less persistent. 

He gripped his hands around her again, using leverage to push her back against the tiled wall. His mouth pressed over hers, silencing her protests about being away from the constant stream of water. A stream of water that seemed to be her only lifeline to sanity at the moment. Lifting one hand, he reached above them to find the showerhead. With the flick of his wrist, he sent the spray of water to beat on the rows of tiles above them creating a waterfall of icy liquid flowing down the wall. 

She sighed as the water flowed over her back, a cooling relief once again against the burn. 

He pressed his lips against her forehead now and felt her relax slightly against him. She was wound tight, unable since their escape to find even just a few moments of peace despite her struggles to. “You’re going to snap Jean.” 

She nodded, pressing her nose into the hollow of his neck greedily inhaling the scent of wet male. “Yes, I know.” 

“It’ll be worse if you try to hold it off any longer.” 

“I can’t let it happen Logan.” Her hands lifted, encircling his broad shoulders with her arms. “If I do, I don’t know the consequences.” 

“Like burning the house down.” She jerked in his arms, surprised he could read her so well. “Thought so.” 

Her muscles braced to push him away and exit the stall but he firmed his grip on her. Her emerald eyes narrowed, the shimmering image of fire licking possessively at her irises. “You know I can toss you across the room right now with just a thought. Get out of my way Logan, I need to go. This isn’t going to work.” 

“Yes, I do know that. Which is exactly why you aren’t going to.” He pressed against her, pushing her back harder against the tiles. “And you’re not going anywhere. At least not at the moment. I have plans for you.” 

Her eyes flashed, irritation sparking in them and flowing down to even further heat her skin. “Logan please, I don’t have time to indulge you in your twisted sex games. I just want to go.” 

“Sex games?” A single eyebrow arched, wrinkling his forehead. His eyes became thin slits then when she said nothing. “Sex games?” he repeated tersely. 

In an instant she found herself gasping sharply in shock as he drove two fingers inside of her. 

“Sex games?” he repeated again, the two words forced past his lips, determined to change her mind. 

“Logan, I-“ She hissed, breaking off as his fingers drove further into her,  wet heat drenching them almost instantly. 

“Sex can certainly be a game Jean, it has its place. But the time isn’t now. I had other ideas for you.”  He slowly withdrew his fingers, pausing before they would pull out of her completely. Her entire body trembling against his. “Apparently, I misjudged that choice.” He pushed forward again beginning a slow and steady rhythm that had her voice vibrating in her throat before she could stop it. 

“Have you noticed you let everything go when we’re doing this?” he murmured against her neck. 

She nodded feebly, her muscles gripping around his fingers as he moved them inside of her. “I’m afraid.” 

“Of what?” 

Her head dropped, their eyes meeting. “Of what would happen if I relinquish control. I can’t keep surrendering control. ” She reached between them, setting her hand to his wrist, stilling his hand as she clamped down on her control. “I’m afraid I won’t get it back.” 

“Why don’t you let me worry about it?” 

“I can’t.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. 

He lifted her hand from his wrist, releasing his fingers to plunge inside her again, setting a brisk pace almost immediately. “I’m not giving you a choice.” 

The orgasm punched through her before she could stop it. Violent heat spread at a staggering pace and she fought to rein it in.  He could sense her holding back, could feel the molten fire boiling under the surface of her skin. “Stop being so afraid.” 

He felt the second orgasm spear through her, her muscles like vises around his fingers. The temperature of her skin spiked, the glow now a vivid orange and growing in intensity. Her entire body went lax as her muscles relaxed, her eyes fluttering open. The rasp of her voice thick in her throat as she whispered his name. Flames danced in her eyes, changing their green hues to a coppery gold. Heat pulsated off of her in waves now, the atmosphere around them filled with steam as the icy water contacted with her skin, instantly igniting it to boiling point. 

Reaching up, he turned the showerhead away from the wall and centered the fall of water to the middle of the stall. He lowered them both to the floor of the shower so that she lay pressed against him. The water rained down on her back, hissing and popping as it contacted heated flesh. 

Pushing herself up, she let the water cascade over her again, sighing as the chilled water ran down her skin. His voice resonated in her ears and she leaned down, lowering her mouth to his. A blaze roared inside of her, tearing at everything she was for release. Using his abdomen for support, she pushed her palms down and lifted herself over him. Now it was his breath that hissed past clenched teeth as she lowered herself down around him. Surrounded him with a flood of heat. 

He reached up, lifting a finger to follow the stream of water that slid over her breasts and down her chest. She sighed as his skin contacted hers and tilted her head back to allow the full rush of water to run down the front of her. She stayed that way, connected with him and unmoving, letting the water wash down over her and onto him. Finally, he dropped his hands to her waist, pushing her upward slightly. 

Her eyes opened once again, their color now a vivid gold, a fire raging inside of them as she looked at him. The stall was bathed in shimmering golds and reds, the entire room alive with the appearance of being on fire, her skin matching the same bold colors. She rocked over him, the colors and heat surrounding them and intensifying with each stroke, each movement she made. White hot heat grew inside of her, spreading to him like a molten flow of lava. It washed over him, filled him with satisfying warmth. The heat built and spread like a wildfire inside of her.  Her eyes burned; the heat and light so intense her vision was white when she closed her eyes. A throbbing pulse vibrated inside of her becoming almost immediately becoming overwhelming with its presence. It pulled and tugged at her and she fought against it despite his desire for her not to, still too unsure of the outcome. 

His voice reached her, practically pleading with her to let herself go, to give in to what she was feeling, urging to the point of nearly a plea. 

She felt his hands still on her hips and knew he was still anchored to her despite the searing heat of her skin. With that final comforting thought she threw herself over the edge and fell hard. The white light blinded him, visible even through his closed eyes. He longed to shield his eyes against the radiance of it but refused to release his hold on her. Her skin ignited under his hands, the flames caressing them finally to the point of pain. He cried out, the scalding burn almost unbearable now. Her muscles seized around him, tugging him along with her. Offering up a promise of what lay on the other side. Willingly, he relinquished his hold on reality and fell after her.


	18. Here Until the End

He had been buried alive.

Nothing else could account for the bone chilling cold that surrounded him. A frigid cold that sank its way down into the marrow of his bones.

To the end of his days, he would never forget it.

Darkness surrounded him, only further adding to his theory of being stuck in the ground, six feet under. Even blinking hard a few times did nothing to clarify or find any semblance of light.

What had happened?

He had been in bed asleep, dreaming of a really choice Harley roaring between his legs when the sound of running water had awakened him. He had stepped into the bathroom…

“Jean!” He bolted upright and realized he had just blown his buried alive hypothesis into a thousand tiny pieces. Forgotten now, he felt the press of cold tile under his legs and found he was still in the shower stall. Reaching up to turn off the water flow, his eyes scanned the room for her.

His ears picked up the sound seconds before his eyes found her curled up in a ball in the corner of the stall. Moving forward, she jerked as his hand closed over her ankle. He unknowingly sighed when their flesh met, her skin cool and pale under his palm.

Her face lifted and he could see a stream of tears trailing down from eyes the color of freshly cut summer grass. Panicked, his hands raced over her body, checking that everything was okay. She swatted at his hand and scowled. “I’m fine stop it.”

Setting down on the tile floor he ran his hands through his wet hair. “What happened?”

“I nearly killed you.”

Disbelief had him frowning and he stared up at the ceiling. “We’ve been over this Jean – you can’t.”

“Funny, I wasn’t the one whose skin was seared off.”

Surprised, he lifted his hands in front of him. Suntanned skin covered his palms, unmarked by even so much as a scratch. Have to love those mutant capabilities. “Must have been out for a while then.”

She nodded in confirmation, remembering the horror of watching his skin knit itself together again. She shuddered, shaking off the vision. He reached out again to wrap his hand around her ankle but she kicked his hand away and abruptly rose. Without so much as an explanation she stalked out of the stall and left the room.

He found her minutes later, tugging a glittery gold sweater over her head. Feet disappeared into heavy work boots and faded jeans finished the outfit. She had not even bothered to ask where her clothes had come from when she had found them earlier. As always with Logan, you just accepted the unusual. Reaching behind her, she wound her wet hair into a tight French braid in quick, jerky movements.

Still unsure of his balance, he sat on the edge of the bed watching her as she methodically tossed clothes into a duffle bag. Several pairs of socks finished off the pile and she jerked the zipper closed.

Tension lined her face and he lifted a hand toward her to clasp her hand in his. She wrenched her hand away before he could touch her skin. It reminded him of driving alone on a quiet, snow covered highway with a frightened teenager beside him. She had jerked her hand away from him also. Her skin a volatile and potentially lethal hazard for anyone who came into contact with her skin. So far, he’d been the only one that seemed to be able to survive her touch. It had created an unspoken bond between the two of them and he felt compelled to watch over her much as a brother would.

But Jean knew better. It scored deeper inside of him than he expected it to when she recoiled from his touch. He understood her reasoning – the basic human mind, in a time of panic, forgot about genetic mutations. She wasn’t being completely irrational but acting childish nonetheless. “Running away is going to solve it?”

“Oh stop it with the stupid psychoanalysis Logan, you’re not Hank. And I’m not a teenager.”

He glanced at the knapsack sitting beside him on the bed and shrugged. “Could have fooled me ‘cause you sure are acting like one.”

A deep sigh dropped her shoulders. “Look what happened when I let go, when I surrendered myself over to whatever this is by not containing it. We know you have regeneration capabilities Logan, but this could be the one thing that surpasses those abilities. It’s just easier this way, because I’m not sure it’s a chance that I’m willing to take.”

“What if it’s a chance that I’m willing to take? How is leaving going to make it easier to understand what’s happening? Running away from someone that could help you out and if nothing else be someone that you could lean on when you need it the most?”

“You ask too many questions, you know that?” He nodded and remained silent, waiting for her to answer any of his questions. She sighed and continued. “You make it sound silly and stupid when you put it all back on me like that. Break it down and make it all seem so simple” She said, crestfallen.

“Because it is.”

Realizing he was right, she slumped to the ground, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with emotion and he hesitated before crossing to her, wondering instead if he should let the flood of tears run its course. 

Realizing he couldn’t stand it, he pulled her into him. She willingly collapsed against him, burying her face in his damp bare chest. 

She stilled finally and he lifted her face to his. “Whatever you do, whatever happens – I’m here ‘til the end. I didn’t come just because you asked me to Jean. I would have ended up back there sooner or later. Searching for answers.”

She nodded, pulling herself away from him and sat back. Absently, she wiped a finger beneath her nose. “You just came for the sex.”

He nodded, sobering almost immediately as he cupped her jaw in his palm and dragged his thumb through the streak of tears that trailed down from her eyes. “A friend was in trouble. For that, I’d destroy hell to save them. Don’t you get it? I would gladly face a thousand deaths if it’s what I have to do to be with you.”

Her heart clenched at his words and she wondered briefly if she imagined them at first. “I was scared, it was stupid of me.”

He shook his head, rising to walk across the room to snap a towel out of the fresh pile on the table to fight off the outbreak of chills on his skin. Wrapping it around his hips, he tucked the end inside and held out a hand to her. Without hesitation, she took it and let herself be lifted to her feet. 

“No, not stupid. There’s something happening to you. Something that’s impossible to understand with the little we know of it. You have every right to be frightened.”

“I hate it when I get like that, you know that.”

“I do. But you’re no less of a person for showing you’re scared Jean. It just shows that you’re still you. We’ll figure this out, Jean.” He wrapped his arms around her again and held her tightly against him. “We’ll make it all right again.” 

Even he could hear the uncertainty lacing through his voice when he spoke those last words. If he knew nothing else though, through sheer force of will, they would be okay.


	19. The Birth of a Blossom

The sun, a blazing orange disc, settled itself comfortably just above the horizon and seemed to hang there. The fiery hues lit up the late afternoon sky in front of Jean, fading to a transparent blue before dimming to black behind her.

The early winter sunset was immaculate against the pure white snow that surrounded her on the ground. She stood alone in the clearing, watching the sun set, her first since her return.

She’d always loved sunsets. The sky was painted in a canvas of brilliant colors as the sun made its retreat below the horizon. Up in Canada, as she suspected they were, the colors were even more striking. There was the same level of peace she always found during this time of day. A certain calmness that could wash over her no matter the current state of affairs in her life. It reminded her that even in the harsh reality they live in there was still amazing beauty to be found. 

A lone thin cloud floated by, seemingly kissing the surface of the sun as it passed. The bright sunlight painted the fluffy cloud with masterful strokes of red, yellow and orange tints. 

She sighed, content with life such as it was, but unsure of where to go next. Instinct was demanding she return to the school, surround herself with those that knew her. But a kernel of something, something she wasn’t sure of yet, had her wanting to stay firmly planted where she was. 

Things were just too unsure right now. The impending worry that something just wasn’t right sat heavily in her stomach no matter how much she tried to ignore it. 

Push it away.

But she couldn’t.

She wasn’t supposed to be standing here right now, watching this beautiful sunset. A few weeks ago she had been fighting with the rest of the team for survival. Helping a friend try to discover what it was that haunted him so fiercely. Stop a madman hellbent on ridding the world of mutants. 

She’d made a split second decision for the sake of the others, knowing that if she did nothing, they would all perish. Not willing for everyone to make such a sacrifice, she pushed herself further than ever before and knew, somehow, it would work out for the best in the end. The team would continue on without her. The professor would continue with his plans for helping the humans understand mutantkind better. If he would have died, what would they all have done without him? He was the backbone that held things together inside of those walls and her sacrifice had preserved it.

She hadn’t even given thought about what it would do to the others, hadn’t even considered that Scott would move on so quickly. Not that she expected him to sit around pining for her when she was gone. But who would have thought that in less than a month he would have found comfort in the arms of someone else. Who was she to feel ill will about someone you thought cared about you finding comfort with someone else, she thought as she saw Logan moving around inside the warmth of the cabin.

If you thought about it and considered, she’d gone straight to Logan when she needed help. She had tried to go to Scott to ask him, but she had had a knee jerk reaction to seeing him in bed with Emma. Who had she turned to immediately following? When she needed comfort, she had given in without question. 

Hell, she’d been the one to initiate it. She had sought comfort from him willingly, and would gladly take that leap of faith again without hesitation.

She began to see her choice that long month ago as a beginning and not as an end. A rebirth of sorts, from whom she once was. There would be no turning back now, no time for misgivings. She would put the past to rest and walk forward into the future with clear vision. 

She held her head high, looked face on into the fading sunlight and felt more like herself than ever before. 

The sun disappeared below the horizon, the ink black sky nearly consuming everything with its wholeness. She smiled and nodded into the darkness. 

Yes, a new beginning.

Turning on her heel she made her way carefully through the piled snow back to the cabin. She stopped short as she stepped into the kitchen through the back door and spied a small package sitting on the island in the center of the room. It was about the size of her hand and elegantly wrapped in brilliant gold paper. A glittering red bow reflected back against the fluorescent lights that blazed overhead. 

Puzzled, she stepped forward leaning down over the item.

He found her still standing there as he entered the kitchen minutes later. Smothering a chuckle, he rested his hands lightly on her hips and felt her muscles jump and immediately tense.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered before pulling away.

Turning, she stared at his retreating back in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.” He called from the next room.

Her hands flew to her mouth that was open in shock as she backed slowly away from the counter. “Oh my god, I had no idea.”

“I didn’t expect you to.” He reappeared in the doorway, watching as she jolted when her back contacted with the railing for the back stairs. Shrugging, he scooped up the small box and presented it to her. “Not much, but it’s something.”

She clutched the package to her, instantly feeling guilty for having nothing to hand him in return. Time seemed to be her enemy recently; robbing from her the ability to keep track of the days as they streamed by.

“Well?”

Sheepishly she smiled. “Sorry. I was just noticing that you had to have wrapped this yourself.”

“Why?” he asked, searching the fridge for a fresh beer.

“You taped the hell out of it.”

“Of course I would wrap it myself. Getting those places to do it for you just ain’t right. Cheating in my book if you ask me.”

Her eyes cast downward, staring blindly at the carefully wrapped box. The paper was somewhat ragged at the ends, showing he had used a pair of dull shears. Clear tape enclosed every folded edge of the paper. “Scott used to have them wrapped. Every year without fail there would be perfect rows of perfectly wrapped gifts under the perfectly decorated tree.”

“Perfect according to whom?” He asked, despite already knowing what her answer would be.

“Him.” She said, confirming his suspicions.

“Ah.” He cleared his throat as he leaned forward towards her. “Just further proves that he does have a stick permanently implanted up his ass.” He extracted the package from her hands and with a few flips of his fingers, the wrappings fell to the floor. The deep red velvet box was deposited back into her waiting hands.

Emotion swamped her. Her voice disappeared from her throat and she struggled to retain her hold on the item because of her sweaty hands. The loud click of the box opening broke the quiet of the kitchen and her gasp was audible.

The red velvet was a stark contrast against the bright silver metal that lay against it. A simple, single freshly bloomed tulip was carved into a small luminescent white pearl and delicate sterling silver cupped the stone to hold it in place. The silver looped up forming a swirl of intricate knots before circling around the thin thread of sterling links that made up the necklace.

She fumbled the box and it slipped between her fingers, heading on a crash course with the tiles. He snatched it out of the air before it could hit the floor. Holding back a chuckle, he extracted the jewelry from the package and circled around behind her. 

Hands shaking, she reached back, lifting the cascading fall of auburn tresses up out of the way. He fumbled the clasp twice before connecting the metal. “Damn dainty things,” he whispered as he pressed his lips against the back of her neck where his fingers had been.

When he turned her around he saw that the pendant hung down into the cleavage between her breasts. 

She smiled when she looked down and saw where the necklace rested. “You planned that, didn’t you?” Her fingers lifted, caressing the delicate petals of the flower. 

“Oh yeah.” 

She laughed now, her heart tripping in her chest as he set the box on the island counter. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything.”


	20. The Emptiness of You Leaving Me

They shouldn’t be here, she thought. Two complete opposites shouldn’t be here in the middle of nowhere sharing this bed as they were. They had laughed about it a bit when they first managed to crawl into bed. She was a stomach sleeper. He, a back.

She slept with an arm curled up under the pillow. His hands were usually folded somewhere in front of him. He wasn’t used to sharing a bed and it showed. He had kicked her three times in the past hour. 

It wasn’t his fault and she knew that. His dreams sometimes crept from nowhere and viciously made themselves known. She had discovered that a single hand on this chest, a gesture of comfort, usually worked to still him.

Sometime during the night, they’d abandoned their favored sleeping positions and turned to one another. It was a soft, slowly engaging act that brought them both comfort amid all the turmoil of the past week or so. 

She fell into an even, steady sleep within moments afterward. The dream faded into her subconscious and she felt herself relax into it as she dropped further into sleep. The blue around her was soothing and she felt as if she were staring out over a vast expanse of aqua blue ocean. 

If only every day could be this calm for her, this freeing. It would be pure magic. She felt weightless, like she was floating in a sea of nirvana. Her brain pleaded desperately with her to never let it end.

She belonged here. Felt right and at home with this mystical place; the warmth encompassing her entire being. A flash of light caught her eye and she turned slowly to it. Her body moving fluidly and effortlessly as she turned towards the source of the light.

The blue around her began changing as the light grew closer. Growing murkier by the second and turning cold. She shivered against it and felt something brush lightly against her outstretched hand. She prodded further; blindly reaching out to find whatever it was that was here with her. Pain had her biting back an oath as her knuckles rapped hard again something.

What the hell was going on?

Her fingers brushed a slick surface once again and she pushed out, meeting only resistance from whatever it was. She tried in inhale deeply but immediately stopped when she realized she was surrounded by water. She kicked toward the slick surface her hands rested against and nearly cried out in shock when she could see Logan standing in front of her.

She stared back at him, her eyes filled with terror as the air supply in her lungs converted to carbon dioxide. Panic screamed in her head and her fists pounded in a flurry against the shatterproof panes holding the water around her. Why didn’t he do something instead of just standing there acting like nothing was wrong?

No, it couldn’t happen like this. Not again. 

She remembered the searing burn of her lungs fighting for oxygen as the water overtook her that day. She had willed the pain to stop as the lake water had bowled her over but it rushed through her unimpeded and couldn’t be stopped. 

Her brain felt like it was going to explode out of her and she could feel her arms and legs begin to numb from the lack of oxygen. She screamed then, disregarding the fact she was in a tank full of water. Make it stop, make the pain go away.

“Logan!” She yelled futilely, her voice carrying in the bubbles that escaped her mouth as she opened it. He stood there simply starting at her, as if he was seeing her for the first time. Emotionless eyes watched her in the water, drown before his very eyes.

Jean watched as a smile turned up the corners of his mouth when her fists stopped their useless pounding on the glass. Brokenhearted, she let herself float in the water and stared back at him, willing him to free her from this torture. Wondering why he wasn’t there to rescue her.

Instead he turned his back, walked away from the tank without so much as a glance in her direction. Without lifting a finger to even try to save her from drowning. This is what her life had come to, every single person abandoning her when she needed them the most. She couldn’t believe it at first, never from him. But the empty space in front of her where he had once stood spoke the frightening truth.

She was well and truly alone.

The burn was excruciating now and she relaxed against it, her arms and legs now completely numb. Her heart rate slowed and she could feel it pounding loudly inside of her head. She counted its slowing rhythm and felt water make its way past her vocal chords as life began draining away. Her throat constricted forcefully as she began gulping the water so that it poured into her stomach.

She would die and she would die right now, on her own terms. She swallowed again and again, continuing until she felt like she could no longer swallow the icy liquid. Her heart slowed to nearly a crawl and she fought against clawing at her chest to stop the burn of her heart suffering cardiac arrest.

“JEAN!” 

Logan’s voice exploded in her head. She pulled something from deep within her and began to beat against the tank walls with her hands again. He was back; he hadn’t abandoned her at all. How lucky of a girl was she?

Arms surrounded her and she found herself fighting against them. She had to get out of this water, it was drowning her. Logan, she had to get to Logan. He was here to save her. To rescue her like some bad ass knight in shining armor.

“Jean.” His voice resonated in her ears and she found herself being shaken at few times until she realized she was in his cabin. In his bed. Her eyes raced around the room frantically, searching for the tank she had been sure she had been drowning in. 

“No. No. No! I was drowning. In the tank.” Her eyes were wide in panic and she clawed her way out of his arms. “I was in the lake. Alkali. You were there. Watching. You turned your back on me.”

He swatted at her hands, fighting off her fingers as she tried to find purchase. She was incoherent and he needed to make her realize it was over now. “Stop. Jean. It was a nightmare.”

“You. You walked away from me. I watched you leave while I was in the water. You left. You left me there to die.”

His heart clenched tightly in his chest. “No, never Jean. I’m here. You’re right here with me. It’s gone, remember. Remember you took care of everything so we never had to worry about that vile woman ever again.”

Her eyes lifted to his as her hands dropped from his, breaking her contact with him. “Not there.” The cloud of confusion vanished then, leaving the green he was so familiar with. Tears welled up in the corners as she spoke. “You left me at the lake.”

Recognition had him dropping his hands from her shoulders and sitting down hard on the mattress across from her. Emotion welled up in his throat and he cleared it a few times before successfully finding his voice. “I wanted the throw myself out of the jet and never come up from the water until I found you. “

Her face flushed red with anger at his words despite the fear stricken look on his face. Wanting to and actually doing it were two completely separate things. How could he sit there and tell her that he wanted to? Tears streaked down her cheeks now. “Why didn’t you?”

“I would have killed everyone in the jet.”

Of course, she thought. The dream was clouding her mind, left her unable to think rationally. There would have been no reason to kill everyone in the jet just for the possibility she might live. Even she knew that. She nodded in understanding and was pleased when his face relaxed slightly.

Shaken, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them to cradle them to her. She blew out a deep breath she had inhaled and eyed him. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“How do you live with terrible nightmares night after night?”

“Darlin’, I don’t have a choice.” He gathered her up into his arms and rocked her gently as he held her to him. “No choice at all.”


	21. End of the Road

They had settled into a routine, a normalcy, which left them both questioning how easily they slipped it on. It just felt right despite the strangeness of it. There were no bad guys to track down, no students to soothe, and no friends to plaster fake smiles in place for. Was it so simple and effortless because they had known each other for such an extended period of time? That they had slid so easily through those remaining few levels of intimacy between them that it hadn’t even seemed like work?

If either of them were in a bad mood, they could let it show without remorse for how the other would take it. When she felt like brooding, silently contemplating her new powers, she brooded. He left her alone, sensing she would come to him when she needed to talk something out.

It was foreign to him, not needing to seek solace like he usually did. Even just one person around for an extended period of time could drive him out of his mind. But not her. She seemed to sense when he wanted to be left alone without difficulty and seemingly vanished until he was ready to in human contact again. 

He could feel himself falling even more than he had ever thought possible. The timing sucked mightily, so he kept it all to himself and went about the daily habits they had gotten into.

She sat down on the couch next to him and he could see the questions swirling in her eyes. He closed the book he was engrossed in and set it quietly on the table next to him, waiting for her to speak.

“I assumed that we’d have heard from the professor by now.”

“Talked to him a few days ago.” He said noncommittally, realizing at first that he couldn’t speak the truth. Afraid to tell her that he didn’t hold all the answers to her questions, just some of them.

“Really?”

He nodded and took a long pull on the beer now clutched in his hand. The professor had contacted him a few days ago; they had talked extensively in fact. Gone over the details of what had brought them to the cabin and why they hadn’t made it back to the school yet. “He wanted to know when we were coming back.”

“Liar.”

“He’s concerned for you Jean.”

“Why doesn’t he talk to me himself?”

He hesitated briefly. “He can’t.”

She sat down hard in the chair, his words bringing her up short from rising to refresh her soda. “What?”

“I think it’s one of the reasons we need to get you back to the school.”

“Tell me.”

He shifted on the couch, uncertain of just exactly how much he should tell her. He knew he would want to know everything, know he theories of the possibilities that lay before him. 

“Please stop trying to treat me with kid gloves Logan.”

“He’s tried to contact you several times but as you see, no luck.”

“You’re still skirting the issue Logan, but I’ll let it go for now. The distance between us and the school would probably necessitate him using Cerebro.”

“He used Cerebro when he tried.” 

Panic clenched her heart before it plummeted into her stomach. “Oh god. What’s happening to me Logan?”

“I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. I still think the best course of action is going back to the school. Professor agrees with me if that adds any weight to it at all.”

Silently, she rose, quietly mulling over the idea that the professor had been trying to contact her using Cerebro. She was on unfamiliar ground here. She had grown accustomed to the burning heat that appeared from nowhere sometimes deep inside of her. Had learned how to control it to at least the point of where she wasn’t setting everything around her on fire anymore. But this mysterious psychic block was new and puzzling. 

“Let’s go.” She said, making the immediate decision even as she spoke the words. 

He longed to ask her if she was sure, but she disappeared up the back stairs and he heard her moving around in paced movements that signaled she was packing.


	22. A Return to Arms

She walked through the double entrance doors of the mansion and drank in the rich details of the hall surrounding her as if she had never seen them before. 

Thousands of memories flooded her consciousness, ghosts of the past surfaced to swirl around her in a hurricane of recollection. Warmth and overwhelming joy emanated from the walls, laying a protective blanket over the shoulders of those whom walked through those doors.

Just like Dorothy said, there really was no place like home.

A piercing scream shattered her private reflections and she was tackled by a dozen rowdy teenagers yelling out her name. They fired questions at her all at once. How she was. Wondering where she’d been. Her voice tripped over itself as she tried to answer them at all once.

She laughed, a genuine deep laugh from her stomach that shown Logan that she really was where she belonged. A light tapping of heels on tile had her looking toward the gallery door, wondering who was coming to greet her next.

Her eyes narrowed when she recognized the three inch spiked heels that emerged from the doorway.

“Emma.”

“Jean.”

The greetings were terse; there were no friendly intentions here. Lofty visions of a quiet reunion back home seemed out of the question now and Logan snorted quietly to himself. The children around Jean noisily continued firing questions at her but she ignored them, choosing instead to stare distastefully at the blond woman in designer jeans before her.

Emma’s mouth twitched into a wry smile as she watched a fire ignite in Jean’s eyes. She felt the air around her waver once with intense heat but noticed that the students around Jean seemed oblivious to the act. Meant for just her then. Well fine, if that was the way of things then so be it. War was war after all. Regardless of whether you were on the same team. Let little miss perfect show off on her homecoming. All the better.

Jean flinched when she felt cold fingers around her forearm, the intensity of her thoughts and gaze at Emma fractured in a split second when she heard Logan say her name.

He slid the rest of the way through the crowd of kids, coming to stand beside her with his hand still firmly cupping her arm. “C’mon guys, let’s let Dr. Grey get settled before we pester her.” He held up a hand at their collective groan. “I’m sure she’ll have tons of time after she gets some rest, it’s been a long trip.”

He tugged lightly on her arm urging her to allow him to guide her to the professor’s office even though she knew where it was. His eyes never left Emma’s crystal eyes, daring her to even twitch a muscle.

“Welcome home, Logan.” Her voice purred in her throat, dripping with delight that she’d gotten them both riled up.

“Emma.” He scowled at her as they passed; saying her name through gritted teeth and led Jean down the long hallway. “That was pleasant.”

“You know she did that on purpose. Meeting us in the front entrance.”

“Not everything she does has a motive, Jean.” He couldn’t believe he was defending Emma. Especially after such deliberate disregard from her.

They turned a corner and she jerked her arm from his grasp. “This is Emma we’re talking about.”

He blatantly ignored the pithy tone in her voice and barged through Xavier’s office door without knocking. The soft whirring of the wheelchair motor greeted them as the professor turned from the window where he had been staring out at the lake behind the house. “Jean. How I missed that smile.”

She crossed to him, leaning over to embrace him in her arms. Logan caught the flash of confusion in the Professor’s eyes seconds before it vanished when Jean rose to stand.

“It’s nice to have you home again.”

“Nice to be home.”

Logan nodded at them both and took his leave, muttering something about finding some food and beer. They silently watched the door close behind him, as the room was filled with an awkward silence.

“How have you been?” 

She debated silently for a few moments, wondering just how to answer the question. She opted for familiarity. “I’ve been better, Charles.”

Surprise crossed his face. “It appears so, you never call me Charles.”

She sighed and collapsed into the nearest chair. “I don’t know what’s up or down anymore. Most of the time I don’t even feel like myself.”

“You’ve been through a chaotic event Jean, not feeling like yourself is perfectly normal.” His wheelchair whined to life and he stopped in front of her, laying a protective hand on her knee. The touch soothed her, calmed the questions spinning inside of her head.

“Life can’t ever be easy, can it?”

“If it was, we would never grow as individuals or as a species.”

“It’s always about the balance of things, isn’t it?”

“Afraid so.” He patted her knee again and guided his chair behind his desk, shifting through the papers that cluttered it. “Why don’t you get some rest, we’ll talk when you’ve gathered your wits about you again.” 

“That could be a very long time.”

“As long as it takes.” He watched her rise from the seat and close the door behind her as she exited the room. “Yes, as long as it takes.” He spoke into the empty room, trying to reassure himself with his own words.


	23. Theories

He anxiously watched the events below from behind a sheet of thick, shatterproof glass. The gauges on the board in front of him read normal but what was happening in there was anything but.

She moved fluidly, with a grace that he had never seen from her before. It astonished him that she had grown so accustomed to herself so quickly. Her control over her powers progressed with each passing day.

One of the robots’ laser beams pounded into the glass and he flinched even as it dissipated. 

“Think she’ll ever have full control?”

A series of clicks signaled the arrival of the professor at his side. “I’m not sure Scott. We may never know her true potential.”

Scott watched through ruby lenses as Jean levitated herself a few inches off the floor of the Danger Room and slam her fist into the robot’s face. “That’s a new one.”

Xavier stared down into the room, quietly contemplating Jean’s maneuvers. “Yes, she discovered she could lift herself a few inches from any surface about a half hour ago. I expect within the hour she’ll be flying.”

A streak of red and black flew past the window. “Then again…”

They watched her for a few minutes before speaking again. “She’s progressing at an accelerated rate. I’ve never seen a mutation like this before.”

“What about her telekinesis?”

“Stronger than any I’ve ever encountered.”

Scott watched her former fiancée taunt another robot, goading it into attacking her. The robot stepped forward, bait taken and was rewarded by a pair of feet into the chest. She lifted herself back up to stand, a wide smile creating the dimples in each cheek that he had once loved so much. He turned his back to the clear glass, unable to watch any longer.

“Is there any danger?”

“No, she’s perfectly safe.” Xavier waved his hand in dismissal and then flipped a few levers on the control panel.

“I meant for us. Is it safe for her to be here?”

Xavier’s forehead creased in surprise and he stared up at Scott in disbelief. “As a man whose fiancée just came back from the grave, you don’t seem too pleased.”

“Former fiancée.” He replied tersely, forcing the words through his lips. “My concern is for the welfare of my team and the students at this school. We have a mutant in there who isn't even sure what she's capable of. As headmaster, I assumed your concern lay with your students as well.”

“You know I would never jeopardize the safety of the children at the school, Scott.”

“I feel differently.”

“You are, of course, entitled to your opinion and your concern is duly noted. But as headmaster of this school, when I give a directive you are to follow it without question. I don’t believe Jean is any danger to herself, or this school. As team leader, you need to act like one; now more than ever.”

“By listening to, and going against, what my gut tells me is wrong?”

“Sometimes being the one that others look to for guidance means that you have to go against your own beliefs and ideals.

“I’m not sure I can.”

“If you feel that you can’t compromise, you can be relieved of your duties.”

The door opened from the Danger Room and Jean stepped into the control room, her hair a mass of tangles that she was struggling to comb out with her fingers. She was brought up short by the tension emanating in the room.

“No.” Scott pushed past her and hastily exited the room leaving her with a stunned looking professor.

“Everything okay?” She asked, barely a hitch in her breath despite her heavy exertion in the Danger Room.

Xavier stared at the closed doors; wishing life was far simpler than it was. “Scott was just expressing his doubts. Nothing you should be concerned with.”

She followed his gaze and could tell there was something more he was not saying. “Mind if I have a talk with him?”

“By all means, please.”


	24. Forever Is Nothing More Than a Word

After her shower, she found him explaining a complex calculus problem to a student in his office. He tilted his head to her, acknowledging her presence in the doorway. Stepping into the room, she examined the rows of books that lined one wall while she waited. A memory surfaced, a remembrance of sitting in here late at night, reading books, sharing a few stolen moments with him. 

“Lily, can you please excuse the doctor and me? We can finish up where we left off tomorrow.”

“Sure Mr. Summers.” The blonde teenager gathered her books and smiled shyly at Jean when she passed. “Welcome back Dr. Grey.”

“Thank you Lily, nice to see you again.” The girl’s head dipped in embarrassment and Jean watched as her skin became transparent before she disappeared through the archway, the scent of flowers trailing behind her. 

He watched Jean study the volumes on the shelves; pick up various knickknacks and examine them each in turn. She paused before picking up a framed photograph of the two of them vacationing in Mexico. 

A well of emotions he thought long buried surfaced and he was across the room before he could stop himself. The oak door closed with a click and Jean jumped in surprise, dropping the photograph when Scott’s arms folded around her.

Glass shattered as he inhaled her scent, whispered into her hair. “I missed you.” 

It was a struggle not to tear herself away from him. He made her uncomfortable holding her; made her itch inside of her own skin to have him touch her after what she had seen in his room that night. She lightly shrugged him off and increased the distance between them. “I missed everyone.”

He stepped forward, only to be brought up short when she took a step back away from him. “I miss you, the way things were.”

She snorted and turned her shoulder to him. “Then you have a very twisted way of showing it.”

Their bodies contacted again as he came to stand behind her, slipped his arms around her and held her hands in his. “She’s a way to kill the pain of losing you.”

She was out of his arms again and across the room before he even realized it. “You love her.”

“I made a mistake, buried my sorrows. Thought I could find with her what we had. I just realized how stupid I’ve been.”

“Don’t try to make excuses and bastardize this. You cheapen it. Accept responsibility for the choice you made and stick with it. Emma may not be on the top of my list of favorite people, but she at least deserves it.”

Furious, his fist punched down through the air to emphasize his words as he spoke them. “You owe me. For years I watched you pine over that over inflated mass of muscles and never once did I say anything. You thought I never noticed, but I saw how you look at him.” 

“Looked but never touched. I had more respect for you, for our relationship as a whole. Yes, for the longest time I wondered. Tossed the what if game around inside my head. But I chose you Scott. You – not him.” She added pointedly.

“But now you’re sleeping with him.” Contempt flowed freely on his voice at the thought.

“And you with Emma. As you so blatantly told me when I asked for help.”

“I was confused. My dreams were horrific right after you died. I was finally able to deal by blocking everything out completely. It was the only way I could survive without you.” He pleaded, as if it would help sway her in some way.

“So sleeping with Emma helped you forget? Numbed the pain?” She threw back at him, unconvinced.

“Yes.”

“Then why did you sleep with her before I was gone?” She could see his eyes flash behind the ruby crystal lenses of his glasses. “I wasn’t blind either Scott. I saw what you two were trying, in vain, to hide. So I don’t owe you a thing. Forever was nothing more than just a word to you when you promised it.”

“Please. Come back to me. Rebuild everything from the ground up again. Rekindle what we once had.” His temper spiked in frustration. 

“That flame is extinguished now. There’s nothing left but a pile of cold ashes. We’ve both moved on and you need to accept that. I’m happy.”

He tried one last time, convinced that he could change her mind. Bring her back to where she belonged with him and not Logan. “Don’t I deserve to change my mind, find the happiness that I, that we, once had?”

“Your former lover comes back from the dead and you’re ready to drop your new girlfriend, one that you were seeing prior to your lovers’ death, in a split second? You’re pathetic.”

In a flash he was across the room and pressing her back against the paneled wall. “I want what belongs to me.”

He could feel her temper spike inside of her, watched her eyes darken and felt the searing heat radiating through his hands from her skin. “I will never belong to you again, Scott.”

Fire flared, appeared from seemingly nowhere to scream around them. “Take your hands off of me.”

A heavy knock broke the tension of the room and Logan’s head appeared when he opened the door. Scott’s hands dropped guiltily from her shoulders and he hastily stepped back a few paces, putting distance between himself and Jean. The flames wavered and shrank into nothingness. 

He reacted before thinking, was across the room in mere seconds. The adamantium under his knuckles itched to be released. To bury itself thoroughly into the chest of the man he threw against the wall. Tear out the beating heart of the bastard before him. That was if he even had one. “If you ever touch her again –“

“Logan, stop.” Her voice calm as she came to stand behind him. 

“Give me one good reason why I should let this son of a bitch go.”

“Because I asked you to.”

He reluctantly complied, but not before punching Scott firmly in the jaw with a swift upper cut. It was a cheap shot and he knew it; couldn’t have cared less and would have done it again if Jean’s hand hadn’t closed over his wrist to stop him. “He’s not worth it. Not anymore.”

Scott stirred, slowly lifting himself from the floor to face them both as he dabbed at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. The bitter metallic taste in his mouth sent his temper keeling over the edge again and he lifted his other hand to the side of his visor.

Logan scowled, tensing to unsheathe his claws but Jean firmed her grip, moving to physically put herself between the two men. “Don’t even think about it Scott. Let’s all just be adults here and walk away.”

Logan hissed before jerking his arm away from her grasp. He started to leave the room but seemed to change his mind at the last minute. Turning, he glared at Scott. Hatred for the man coursed through him, rode the wave of violence he was struggling to restrain. “Touch her again like that and they’ll be picking tiny pieces of you out of those books you treasure so much. If they even find you at all.” He added under his breath before switching his gaze to Jean and his features softened. “The professor said he wanted to see you in his office.”

She nodded. “I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Hesitantly, he returned her nod. The door closed as he left and the room fell into silence. She knew now, knew without question that she had made the right choice. Whatever minute sliver that was left of her love for Scott was gone. Dissolved the instant he demanded to have her love again. Let Emma have him. The two of them deserved each other.

She was better off.

“You made your choice Scott. As have I.” She turned from the window, faced him fully with a smile on her face. “We once loved each other very much. The memories are going to have to be enough from this point forward. I can’t offer you love, at least not like that. Not anymore. Will you accept my friendship instead?”

He conceded, knowing that what she said was right. It felt right deep inside and something within him changed. A shifting to accept this new way of things that had completely turned themselves inside out in just a month’s span. “Willingly.”

They embraced, cementing each others’ words.


	25. Choice Made, Promise Kept

She stared up at the ceiling, sleep eluding her again. She heard Scott’s steady breathing next to her in bed and could tell he was awake as well. Without even looking at him she could tell what lay heavy on his mind. He had told her everything that had transpired this afternoon and while he said he was satisfied with their conversation, he still seemed unsettled.

“You can’t honestly say that you expected her to come running back to you.”

He flinched at her spoken words. “Stay out of my head, Emma.” Irritated, he shifted to his side turning his back to her.

“Please.” She snorted. “You don’t even have to be a second rate hack to know that. I don’t need to be in your head when it’s written all over your face.” She pulled on his shoulder and forced him onto his back again. Skin contacted skin as she curled up next to him, settling her head on his folded arms. Her leg wound around his and she idly ran her hand along his abdomen. “What did you expect?” She whispered into the darkness surrounding them like a thick, heavy cloak that muffled the quiet sounds of the school.

“I’m not sure, but I had to know.”

Her hair brushed his chest as she nodded in agreement. “I had my own expectations too, Scott. That, while not her, I thought you could still love me. I never expected you to forget her – never even really expected you to stop loving her. I could never compete with her and I’m not trying to.”

“You did once.”

“I did. It was petty of me but I don’t regret it. But who sought solace from whom? Especially after she died?”

He shrugged. 

“You made a conscious choice to move on and now you’re blaming yourself for it. You think if she’s still in love with you that she’ll fault you for your choice. From the sound of your conversation this afternoon, it doesn’t sound like she does.”

“She’s different now.”

“So that should further solidify it in your mind that you made the right choice.”

“Maybe it’s a matter of wanting it all back to the way that it was. That’s not what I meant.” He added hastily when he felt her begin to pull away. He clasped his hand over hers and pressed it onto his chest. “Back to a time when I actually knew what to expect from someone. Which direction to go when I doubted even myself.”

“So what you’re saying is that the control freak is wondering if he made the right choice?”

“Yes.” He said succinctly.

“You said yourself that she only wants your friendship now. I guarantee you that she’s not sitting around pining for you or even cursing you for your choices. She’s not angry that you weren’t right there beside her when she returned.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. But don’t sound so enthused by the fact.”

“I’m sorry Emma. I just can’t shut everything down and think.”

“I can help with that.” Her hand slid out from under his and trailed slowly down his abs, tracing the line carved by the hundreds of exercises he ruthlessly did to train his body. Warm fingers tightened around him and he exhaled, relaxing into her touch. 

Yes, he had made the right choice.


	26. Motorcycles, Girls and Ancient History

She rubbed at the ache at the base of her skull. The migraine was finally releasing her from its hold but she could still feel the trailing whispers of it. If she could will it away, she would. In a second.

“Feeling better?” Concern filled his voice as he spoke.

“A bit. Thanks.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

She knew he didn’t expect her to sugar-coat her problems, especially to him, but just saying no wasn’t going to cut it anymore. She didn’t expect him to recognize her agitation, her frustration. But what else was left for her to say? “I just feel so alone in this.” She quickly laid a hand over his when she saw the pained expressions in his eyes. “You’ve been here through all of this and I can’t even begin to thank you enough.”

“But there’s still something missing?”

She nodded, turning away to put her back to him. It wasn’t intentional, shutting him out at this moment. But no matter how much she confided in him, explained what she felt inside, she wasn’t confident he understood completely. 

He knew something was missing, but what it was, he had no idea. An idea suddenly occurred to him and he realized he was wrong. “I’ll be back later.” Lost in his own thoughts, he absently kissed her cheek.

She watched him go, felt the overwhelming sadness wash over her again. She succumbed to it this time instead of fighting it and let the sobs ripple over her like waves.

Sinking further, the tears fell over her cheeks as she curled up on the settee, shutting out the surrounding world.

***

He tapped lightly on the canary yellow door and jammed his hands in his pockets. Quiet murmurs could be heard through the steel and he hoped he wasn’t disturbing her while she was entertaining company.

He heard the door lock click and her smiling face appeared as the heavy door swung inward. The sprinkle of freckles on her nose along with her startling green eyes and bright copper colored hair, reminded him of her Celtic heritage and the streak of stubborn that went with it. 

He returned her smile and nodded when she held up a finger, indicating she would be with him in a moment. “Gotta go, Sam.” She clicked the cordless phone off and absently set it on the hall table as she leaned over the railing to the staircase. “Trish, I’m kicking you out now.”

He started to protest, signal he could come back later when she pulled him through the doorway and into the front hall.

“What did you say? I was drying my hair and thought I heard a knock on the door.” The owner of the slightly muffled voice appeared at the top of the stairs wrapped in a bath towel. She was frantically rubbing another towel over her wet hair in an effort to dry it.

She let a sly smile spread her mouth and she winked. Jerking her head towards her roommate, she mouthed her intentions.

“She said, she was kicking you out for the night.” His deep voice had the freshly washed female letting out a girlish squeal of horror and him wincing against it. His face softened though when she threw herself back up the stairs, frantically clutching at the towel that was threatening to fall off. “That was just evil.” 

“She finished off the last of my Cheez-Its last night without telling me. Serves her right.”

“Same old Angelica.” 

“You’re damn right.” She was in his arms then, wrapping her own comfortably around his waist.

The sound of a clearing throat a few minutes later had him looking up and he saw her roommate, fully dressed now, descending the stairs. Angelica released her hold, keeping one arm around his waist, and turned. “Out.”

Trish pouted. “You aren’t even going to introduce me to your gentleman friend here?”

“Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“Matt’s picking me up in ten.”

“Then wait out on the porch.”

“That much of a rush to get rid of me, huh? You two have hot plans or something?”

Angelica turned again, this time back into him, pressing herself up against him. Her mouth clamped over his and one of her legs lifted to the back of his legs to pull him closer.

“Christ Angelica, you could have just said so.” The door shut behind her and the house fell into silence.

Ballsy. He’d forgotten: stubborn and ballsy. “Nice to see you again too.” He said through a laugh when she pulled away.

She held up her hands in surrender as she stepped away. “Sorry, it was just the quickest way to get rid of her for some privacy. How are you Logan?”

“Been better.” His eyes cast around the parts of the house he could see. Simple, clean and tidy. Not what he thought of when he thought about her. She was compensating for something, hiding things as usual. “You?”

“Been better.” She echoed his words and tone while gesturing him into the living room. She disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing moments later with an opened beer in each hand.

“A girl after my own heart.” He reached out, chugging half the beer before she had even lifted hers to her mouth. 

Her arms crossed and she relaxed her weight back onto one foot. “Now that’s ancient history revisited.”

He swallowed the beer and smiled. “Quite a night, wasn’t it?”

“Still have that bike?”

He nearly choked on the beer this time.

Sitting astride his motorcycle, the worn leather of the seat curved up to hold her lovingly against it. She was wearing nothing but a sly smile of invitation. 

Shaking off the memory, he cleared his throat. “Forgotten about that part. No, lost that bike in a poker bet about a year later.”

“A little hard for me to forget, especially since I swore it was weeks before the impression of the gas cap on my lower back faded away. Wait, you lost at poker?” She asked skeptically.

“Bad night.”

“If you’ve ever had a lousy night at poker I’ll paint myself purple and hop down my street in the middle of the day on a pogo stick.” 

He arched an eyebrow at her. “I think your anecdotes get more colorful through the years.”

“You’re dodging the issue.”

He sighed, knew she was right and also knew she didn’t mean about the motorcycle. “I’m sorry to just show up on your doorstep after all this time.” 

She waved off his excuse, taking a long pull from her own beer as she did. “If you expect me to turn full out female and bitch at you for not calling the day after, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. You and I both know we weren’t expecting anything more than what we got. Didn’t expect to hear that did you?“

“Actually, that’s exactly what I expected from you.”

“Oh goody, predictable as ever.”

“You are anything but predictable Ang – always were.”

“So, this obviously isn’t a social call to discuss our past sexual antics, nor the difficulties of living with a roommate when you have a secret identity. What do you have on the burner?”

“I was wondering if you’ve got a few days, come stay at the mansion. I need a favor.” 

It was her turn to choke on the beer as she drank, a red flush instantly rising from the coughing fit. Her voice was strained from the effort when she was able to speak. “Since asking for a favor isn’t something you’d normally do, I’ll say yes without question because it’s obviously something important to you. What I will ask is what the hell are you doing living at the mansion?” 

She held up a finger as she set the half empty beer bottle clanking onto the marble table top. “Hold that thought, let me grab a few things and you can talk on the way. That is, unless you’d like to relive a memory on that snazzy bike I see out in my driveway.”

She cocked her head to the side when he shook his head no and stared at him for a few minutes in silence. A wide grin broke out on her face and she sat down on the couch, stunned. “Well, well. Logan’s in love. Isn’t that an interesting twist on life? Oh don’t look so astonished, it’s as clear as day now, I just missed it at first.”

He continued to stare at her, bewildered that in the years since they’d last seen each other, she figured out what he had only started grappling with. “What are you talking about?”

“About the look I see in your eyes, on your face. Taking about you coming here to ask a favor.” She crossed the room to him, laid a hand lightly on the center of his chest. The cadence of his heartbeat pulsed against her palm. “I’m talking about the woman who’s cracked that tough exterior you’re so damn proud of and wound her way inside of here.”

“Ang-“

“Don’t worry, we’ve done that dance before Logan, I’m not looking to step back into that story with you. My card’s already full.” Her hand fell away and she stepped back, brushing the fringe of bangs out of her face. “She must pretty special for you to ask someone for a favor.”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Lucky girl. I hope she realizes it.”


	27. Conversations about Understanding

Her head jerked up at the sound of a clearing throat at the doorway. Embarrassed, she wiped at the trails of tears that didn’t seem to be stopping lately and struggled to smile. “May I help you?”

“Jean Grey?” The redheaded woman stepped into the room and held out a hand to her. “Angelica Jones.”

Jean stepped forward, cautiously shaking the woman’s hand. “I’m sorry, were you looking for someone?”

Bright green eyes stared back at hers and she felt uncomfortable standing there without any idea of what to say. There was something familiar about the woman, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Boldly, the woman made her way around the room, studying the interior of the bedroom. 

Her fingers trailed through the loose ends of a scarf wrapped around the iron bedpost and she casually sat down on the unmade bed. “Looking for you actually.”

“Well, pardon me-“

“Logan asked me to come.” 

“Oh.” Jean’s mouth shut with a snap. 

Angelica warmed inside, instantly at ease with the woman before her and the reason Logan had asked her to come in the first place. “I used to be a student here at the mansion. This used to be my room in fact. Changed substantially since then though.”

“The walls were black when I moved in.”

Laughter shook her shoulders at the memory. “Yeah, that was me.”

“I was wondering who could have possibly done that.”

Angelica spread her hands wide in a flourish. “Guilty.”

Jean laughed and settled into her oversized desk chair. “Why did you leave?”

“I don’t seem to be the team player type of person. I’d worked out control over my powers well enough that I didn’t want to live here anymore.”

“So then you know Logan how?”

“Oh he and I go way back. Last time we saw each other was a few years ago. We worked together for a short time and then, you know Logan, he just took off. Quite a surprise to see him show up at my doorstep out of the blue.” She smiled, saw the question sitting on Jean’s tongue and knew she wouldn’t even think of actually verbalizing it. “Yes, we had a fling and no, there’s no interest there any longer.”

The twinge of jealousy instantly vanished and a blush flushed Jean’s face red with embarrassment. “That obvious was it?”

“He has a tendency to do that to women doesn’t he?”

“Slightly and he’s so oblivious to it that it’s not even funny.”

Her voice dropped an octave and her eyes became narrow green slits. “Oh honey, believe me, he knows.” 

“Yeah, you’re right – he does.” Jean pushed her hair behind her ear with a laugh.

Angelica leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Damn sexy son of a bitch though, ain’t he?”

Oh they were going to get along just fine, Jean thought as she relaxed. She propped her feet on her desk, pushing her optical mouse out of the way with her heel. “So what brings you here?”

“Like I said, he asked me.” She shrugged, pushing herself fully onto the bed now.

“Since both of us know that’s something off the wall and uncharacteristic of him, there’s obviously something he thinks you can offer me.”

“Understanding.”

“Of what exactly?”

“Your powers. He filled me in a little, gave me a quick overview of what’s been going on lately. Thought maybe I might be able to help you out and since I figured it was pretty important to him, I said I’d give it a shot. Frankly, I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“Why’s that?”

“From his description of what’s been going on, our powers aren’t that similar. He could have just been referring to control issues though.”

“So what exactly are your powers?”

Angelica snorted. “Where do I start? Simply put though, I draw power from the Earth’s magnetic force and convert it into energy. Using that, I can levitate and fly.”

“No, nothing like what I’m experiencing.”

“I can also convert that energy into fire and that’s my main defense. I can’t move metal things around like Magneto if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Jean nodded, understanding now.

“I set a lot of things in this mansion on fire trying to get a handle on things. Broke a few bones zipping around here too.” She absently ran her hand up over her shoulder, massaging at a phantom ache. “Put a dent in the Danger Room’s north wall one time.” 

“So that’s how it got there.” Jean thought about the night at Logan’s cabin, the few hours earlier and frowned, recognizing why Logan made the connection now. “How did you rein it in?”

“Practice. Determination. A stubborn streak a mile wide that wouldn’t let me give up. Take your pick. You’re comparing now, I can see it. Weighing what I just said with what you already know. You’re just as determined, if not more so. So why can’t you handle it? No two mutations are ever the same. The X gene is a finicky beast.”

“At least you have an explanation, a reason for your powers.”

“Blaming it all on a gene is easy. Accepting the mutation is hard. Learning you aren’t as normal as everyone else is downright malevolent. But you had powers before, so what I don’t understand is what makes now so different.”

“Because it is different; it’s like there’s something inside clawing at me. I’ve never experienced anything like it before, so I don’t understand it.”

“When did it start?”

“After Liberty Island.” She recalled the conversation she had with Scott at the museum. Him emphatically telling her something was off. She emphatically denying it. “I was trying to deflect a missile headed for the X-Jet, when I purposefully tapped my telekinesis. I noticed it then for the first time. It’s like it had just been lying dormant, waiting patiently. It surprised me so much, I lost my hold on the missile and we nearly lost one of the kids. If it hadn’t been for Kurt…I hate to even speculate.”

“Kurt? Blue guy I met down the hall right? Sorry, never mind, I interrupted.”

“No, it’s okay, Kurt’s quiet a character. I was glad he was there to help. Xavier’s trying to convince him to stick around but I don’t imagine it will work. He’s too much of a free spirit.”

“I get that impression too.”

“Everything was normal after that – at least with my powers. I was able to use them without incident.”

“Until?”

“The dam collapsed. We had gotten everyone, all the kids, into the jet and some sort of electrical disturbance was causing a malfunction with the jet’s controls. I just knew that I could do it. So I left. I reached down further than I had before and I just – felt alive.”

“Like you could do anything?”

“Not anything, but close.”

“I didn’t get it before, didn’t understand. But I do now. I swear to God that man is too smart for his own damn good sometimes.”

“Pardon?”

“I couldn’t figure it out, why he had asked me, of all people, to come talk to you. I mean, why show up at a former lover’s house, after years of never speaking to them, and ask them to talk to your current girlfriend?”

“Okay, you’ve lost me. I don’t understand.”

“If you did, I wouldn’t be here. I know, sorry, I’m not making a whole lot of sense.”

“No, you’re not.”

“It wasn’t the fact that I wasn’t a team player that had me leaving the mansion. I can control me powers, use them to fight for a cause that I believe in. But there are more instances than not where something inside is begging for release. Xavier wanted me to control that as well and I refused. To steal your words, when I let things get that far, I felt more alive that I ever had. I was a rebellious teenager, what more can I say?”

“But with age comes knowledge right and here’s the part where you’re going to tell me to wait it out.”

“No, I’m not going to tell you that. Yes, I was only a teenager when I took off, bucked authority. But not much else has changed since then. It’s still a constant struggle to this day to not let loose.”

“Well that’s not much help.”

“But it’s easier hearing it from someone who’s been there. Someone who doesn’t have a romantic attachment so you don’t feel like you’re being fed a line?”

“I never thought-“

“I’m not talking about Logan. He’s not the type of guy to feed you what you want to hear to placate you. But you can’t honestly tell me that somehow you haven’t thought about it. Wondered if you’re being told this by someone just to keep you from bolting.”

“No, you’re right, not from Logan. But others, yes.”

“Great group of friends you’ve got here.”

“They mean well.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise at that statement. “There is a small minority of people who actually mean what they say. The rest are just trying to blow smoke up your ass.”

“Talk about being cynical in life.”

“Being out in the real world will do that to you. Maybe you should trying moving away from this place for a while; it’ll do wonders for a girl.”

“No thanks.”

“Suit yourself. So, do you love him?”

“I thought we were talking about my powers?”

“You two are made for each other. You’re both masters when it comes to dodging the question.” She waited, tapping her boot lightly against the hardwood flooring. “Well?” Her question was greeted with silence. “Look, if it helps any, I can see it all over you too. Just seems you two are too blind to see if yourselves. Textbook case I tell you.”

“Textbook case?”

“Of love. Oh believe me, there’s lust there too. Any woman would have to be frigid to get near that and not feel it.” She hooked her thumb towards the door and smiled. “But it’s a rare woman that could pull both of those things from him so completely. I have to admit, I’m jealous.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s something I couldn’t do when I was with him. Oh, he’s the master of making whomever he’s with at the time feel like they’re the only one. But you? You’re the genuine article. There won’t be another one for him.”

“Wow. Uh, this certainly wasn’t a conversation that I was expecting to have. At least not with a total stranger.”

A rolling laugh burst from Angelica. “Sorry, sometimes I’m too nosey for my own good. One day, it’s going to get me in trouble.”

“Oddly enough, I appreciate it. Everything, not just about Logan and I. I also mean about the whole issue you came here for.”

“Great. Not sure how much help I was.”

“A lot actually.”

“Good. Then the trip out here wasn’t a waste. Though riding on the back of his motorcycle again was worth it alone.”

It was Jean’s turn to laugh. “Was it a long trip?”

Angelica shook her head. “No. I live just on the outskirts of the city. Close enough to be near if trouble starts, far enough away for just a smidge of privacy. Not all of us have fancy X-Jets to cart us around where we need to go. Peter always complains that I live too far away, but he’s just going to have to deal with it.”

“Peter?”

“Peter Parker.”

Jean snapped her fingers. “That’s where I know you. I was watching the news last week and a story came up about a foiled bank robbery. You and Peter were the ones who stopped the robbers.”

“Such is the life of a superhero. Though, since I was in costume and you’ve recognized me out of costume, something tells me I need to work on the old secret identity.”

“It’s your eyes.”

“What?”

“Your eyes. They stood out and I noticed them as you were talking to the reporter. I noticed the exact same thing when you came into the room just now. It’s just something I notice so I think your secret’s safe from the general populace.”

“Well that’s good to know.”

He found them both giggling like school girls when he walked in the room several minutes later. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.” He said gruffly, lifting an eyebrow when his comment only seemed to further fuel their laughter.

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the door jamb and waited out the giggle fit. After what seemed like an eternity, they both rose from their seats and embraced like old friends. His stance softened then, deciding almost immediately that he had made the right choice. Quietly, he cleared his throat and stepped into the center of the room as he glanced at his watch. “Professor’s staff meeting is in ten.”

“That’s my cue.”

“Sure?”

“That whole team thing again. Too strict and formal.”

“Gonna stick around for a while or you need a ride back now?”

Her stomach grumbled in protest. “Suppose I should listen to it huh? Think I’ll raid the fridge and see where the day takes me.” Standing on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and patted her hand lightly on his chest as she whispered something to him. “It was nice to meet you Jean, take care of this guy.” Angelica disappeared through the doorway and vanished from sight.

Jean slid her arm around Logan’s waist and guided him out of the room. They walked down the hall towards the main hall that the Professor used for his staff meetings.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stopped, opening the door ahead of her to allow her to pass in front of him.

She stopped in the doorway and looked back, shaking her head as he kept his face blank. “She was right, about you being too damn smart for your own good.”

“Who?” 

She knew better than the emotionless face he was giving her but recognized his reasoning. She snorted and grabbed his hand to pull him along behind her.


	28. Staff Meetings are the Bane of Mutant Existence

Her jovial mood was shattered into tiny pieces as they neared the elongated table and saw Emma and Scott already occupying their seats. The conversational noise of the room stilled into uncomfortable silence and her and Logan selected seats at the far end of the table.

The noise of the room elevated again as they sat without incident.

“Everything alright?” he asked her quietly, purposefully keeping his voice low so that only she could hear him.

“Are you finally acknowledging Angelica was here?”

His head shook to indicate no. “I’m simply asking if everything is okay.”

She slid a finger across the tabletop and jabbed it lightly into his forearm. “It’s fine, for now. Really didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know but it was just nice to talk about it with someone.”

“Good.”

“You still like her.”

“We had a moment, it passed.” He shrugged at the sly smile that curved up her lips.

“She still likes you.”

He coughed, hiding the laugh that was rolling up from his stomach. 

“What?”

“Uh. I don’t think I can even begin to compete with her current lover.”

The Professor appeared just then, gliding into the room with a soft whir of his wheelchair. She jabbed her finger into his side this time and leaned over, pressing her lips to his ear. “What, too chicken to compete with another man?”

“No, smart enough not to compete with a woman.”

She blinked twice, staring at him for a moment as she thought about what he had said. It amused him to slowly watch realization dawn and her eyes grow wide in astonishment as the rest of her face slackened in shock.

The Professor began speaking then and Logan physically had to turn her in her chair, her mouth still slack with disbelief.

He turned his attention to the business at hand but after several minutes, gave up listening completely. It was easy to tune out the constant, monotone of Charles’s voice. 

Yes, everyone knew the significance of the mutant registration act and what it would mean for everyone if it was passed. Cramming it down their throats every five seconds wasn’t going to further enforce its importance.

But tell that to Charles.

Jean smiled at him as she caught his eye when he slid his chair back so he could prop his feet up onto the table. He returned the smile and extracted the magazine he’d stuck in the pocket of his pants. Her head shook and she rolled her eyes as she settled her hand on his leg then turned her focus back to the Professor. 

Better her than him.

“Perhaps you would find yourself yawning less if you would put that Playboy down and paid more attention to the discussion at hand, Logan.” 

The Professor’s voice broke him out of his stupor and he stifled the yawn at the sound of the Professor’s voice. “There’s a good article about Zeppplin in here.” He defended, earmarking the page he was reading even as he spoke.

“Then you should give it your full attention at some other time, a time that does not directly conflict with my staff meeting.” Stern words were issued and the glossy magazine was tossed casually up onto the intricately carved mahogany table as Logan leaned forward on his elbows. “Maybe if your staff meetings weren’t so boring Charlie, I wouldn’t bring reading material.”

Scott snorted and gave his unasked opinion. “I don’t know if I would refer to Playboy as reading material. Especially for you, Logan.” 

He cut his eyes to Scott, smirking when he saw him all but steaming under his freshly ironed button down shirt. “I’m surprised a straight ass prick like you even knows what Playboy is.”

Scott opened his mouth to retort but Xavier’s hand lifted, silencing any further comments from either party. “Can we please save this childishness for some other time and get back to the meeting?”

Both men uttered apologies to Charles under their breath and settled back into their chairs. Emma’s hand settled on Scott’s forearm and she leaned over, whispering something into his ear that had him smiling and pressing a brief kiss onto her cheek. 

Xavier cleared his throat and shuffled the papers in front of him on the table. “I’d like to discuss Betsy’s findings at Alkali Lake.”

Logan seemed surprised, the earlier argument forgotten upon hearing this. “Betsy?”

“Yes, I asked her to perform a reconnaissance mission up to the lake to verify our own findings.”

“Don’t trust me, Charlie?” Logan asked; irritation palpable in his voice as he scowled.

“Of course, Logan. However, considering the circumstances last time, I simply wanted to verify your findings.”

Jean cleared her throat. “Charles, I can verify the verbal report that Logan gave you as being accurate. There really isn’t a need to rehash ground that we’ve already covered.”

“Yes, well, had he provided me with the hard copy report I requested instead of a verbal one, I would have copies to distribute to everyone. However, as we all know, Logan is not known for his writing skills nor his cleanliness, as the last report I did receive from him was covered with cigar ashes, mustard and an as-yet unidentifiable substance, I found there was a need to have hard evidence at hand.” The flat screen on the wall behind the Professor flickered to life and they found themselves staring at a grainy picture of the lake.

“Hey guys.” Betsy’s voice echoed through the room and a small window opened on the lower right corner of the screen. She had her purple hair tied up in a ponytail and a pencil stuck behind one ear. “Whoa, tough crowd.” She said as a few mumbled greetings where tossed her way.

The Professor spun his chair to face the screen and smiled at her. “Good morning, Betsy. Please, start whenever you’re ready.”

The camera began moving and they soon found themselves staring at a large concrete mass. “This was what was left of the dam after it was destroyed by the collapse. There was nothing left underground, all the tunnels and passageways were destroyed completely when the water overtook the complex. The dive teams verified our suspicions about any further network on that side of the lake. Sorry Logan, but there was nothing there to salvage. I know it was important to you.”

He grunted in response. The knowledge was unnecessary now, but he had yet to say anything to anyone yet. It was information that he wanted to keep to himself, at least for the moment. Besides, everyone was so focused on Jean’s return that any revelations from him seemed inconsequential.

Betsy’s eyes crinkled in question but she continued on. “We found the structures that Logan described on the other side of the lake. Let me say that I’m relieved that those two over there are on our side, there wasn’t much left of the damn place to search.” She waved her hand in Jean and Logan’s general direction.

“Betsy, while your colorful commentary is entertaining, we have several members of the junior team here, so if you could please watch the language.” Bobby’s hand moved forward as Scott spoke, his fingers just inches from his goal. Almost have it, he thought, just a little bit more. His determination was squashed however, when Scott’s hand came down on top of the Playboy magazine and slid it back in front of its owner. “Logan, keep that waste of print magazine away from the kids.”

“Hey!” Bobby took immediate offense to being called a kid and slid back into his chair pouting. 

Logan smirked. “Nothing worse that what they watch on television nowadays. Besides, maybe he would learn a few things.” He winked at Bobby and slid the glossy magazine into his back pocket as he rose to stand closer to the screen. “Mornin’ Betsy.” He smiled then, devilish delight swimming in his eyes. “Bet you know all about Playboy don’t you?”

She blushed, the top edges of her ears turning pink as she cleared her throat in an effort to hide her embarrassment.

“If you two will conduct your ritual bonding later, I would like to get back to the staff meeting.” Scott barked and hit his hand on the table.

“Don’t mind Scott today Betsy, he’s got his lacy pink panties in a wad about something.”

“I thought you knew better Logan, those pink panties hold that stick in place in his ass.”

“Enough.” The single word was spoken harshly from Jean. Everyone in the room turned to her and saw that her eyes were brightly lit with a gold haze. “Can we please just get through the rest of this without making it anymore of a circus that this already is?”

Betsy shifted uncomfortably on the screen and continued on. “Here’s a video I took myself of the main control area and the surrounding labs. As you can see, everything has been destroyed. A large, widespread detonation of some kind occurred, causing massive fires that burned themselves out eventually since the extinguishing system in place was controlled electrically. Power loss occurred prior to the fires starting, so once they began, there was nothing to stop their progress. We found approximately twenty bodies in the rubble and as far as we can tell, that was everyone in the complex. My forensic anthropologists are working as quickly as they can to identify all the remains and as soon as I have their data, I’ll send it to you.” The shuffle of paperwork could be heard and she turned, speaking to someone off screen. “That’s all I have for the moment.”

“Great. Staff dismissed.” Scott barked out, the screen snapping off as he rose and stalked out of the room. The other members of the team quietly filed out of the room, astounded at some of their friends actions during the meeting.


	29. Nothing is Inconsequential

Jean stood next to Logan, whispering something in his ear when the Professor wheeled himself over to them. “Logan, I’d like a word with you alone.”

Expecting the worst, he smiled at Jean. “I’ll catch up with you later.” 

She nodded. “Professor.”

They both watched her quietly close the door behind her as she left the room to allow them some measure of privacy.

Logan tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. “So, how many days suspension is that Charlie?”

“Logan, while you are clearly pleased with your actions and your antics were uncalled for, that is not why I asked you to stay behind.”

“Oh?” Intrigued now, he tilted his head slightly to the side and waited. 

“Yes, I know throughout this ordeal, you have been Jean’s confidant. Especially in the days at your cabin immediately following your escape from Callista. She has expressed an interest in returning to the team. When I expressed my own concerns, she seemed adamant that if she can’t be part of the team, she is better off leaving. Since she is unaware of her capabilities at this moment I think it best, under the circumstances, that she remains here until we can find out what is going on with her.”

The mood in the room shifted, turning immediately serious. He had been hoping for answers but only kept hitting one question after another. “What exactly is causing all this?”

“I’m not sure. Her powers are beyond anything that I’ve even seen. I don’t even know where to begin to try to learn anything about her powers now.”

“So we do nothing? Sit idly by while she goes through whatever hell it is that’s changing her? She was a fucking ghost hanging over my bed a few weeks ago and now, here she is in flesh and blood. I know you’re all about helping whatever lost cause you’ve taken up for the month but Jean’s not one of those.” Fury sang through his voice as his hands dropped to his sides to clench tightly. So tightly that his knuckles turned instantly white from the force.

“I assure you, my intention in not to sit idly by and do nothing. Nor do I see Jean as one of my ‘lost causes’. That is why I have come to you. There’s something you’re not telling me Logan.” The Professor held up his hands in a sign for Logan to have patience with him. “I realize openness isn’t always one of your strong suits, but in this case I need complete disclosure from you.”

“She’s progressed past what she had the capabilities for when I found her, what does it matter?”

“In order to try to help her, to understand what it is that’s happening, I need to know everything.”

“Why?” He shot back more forcefully then he intended. He knew the Professor was just trying to help but he was intent on keeping something in his life that was very private, just that way – private. 

“Call it an understanding of the bigger picture.”

Hesitantly, he conceded. He would tell him, but by damned he was going to tap dance around the details as much as he possibly could. “I noticed something was different the instant I saw her in the lab. I couldn’t figure it out exactly, but I just knew. Those tests Callista was performing didn’t seem to help matters. Every time I saw her something was just…off.”

“Did she appear visibly different?” Charles prodded carefully.

“No, it was just a sense. She looked the same as when she left the jet. The same as she does today.” He waved a hand in the direction of the doors Jean had disappeared through moments before.

“At anytime during the testing did something happen?”

He spoke low, his back turned to the Professor. “The light.”

“Light?”

Turning, he ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Whenever the testing would begin the second phase, there was a light that would light up the entire lab. Even on the screen I could see it.”

“And?” He asked hesitantly, afraid of where this was heading.

“The light would get brighter the longer the tests were conducted. I noticed objects that weren’t secured to anything start to levitate. There had to be more to that light though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Couple of things actually. One of the lab techs came in the room while they were conducting one of the tests. Took her mask off and sweat was just rolling off of her.”

“Perhaps she was hot under her mask.”

“No, this was different. Nobody sweats that much just standing around in a lab wearing a mask.”

“And you’ve been in enough labs to know this factually?” Logan’s eyes cut to him and he frowned. “My apologies, please continue. You said a couple of things, what else?” Xavier noted his hesitancy and smiled warmly at Logan in an effort to lighten the mood in the room. “It is quite obvious, you know, the attraction the two of you share. I’m not out to discover the gory details, as they say, between the two of you. I’m trying to help Jean.”

Logan nodded, frowning as he stood next to the large picture window and silently watched the rain beating down against the thick glass. “I noticed benign things at first. The fire in the fireplace would seem like it was raging out of control when she walked into the room. Items appeared out of nowhere, not something she could do before.” 

Xavier nodded and sat in silence while he let him continue.

“Sometimes I would walk into the room where she was and the air just vibrated with this sort of power. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. In the middle of the night one time, I found her in the shower, running ice cold water over her skin. It was glowing these ungodly shades of colors; it was almost as if she were on fire. It was gorgeous. Mesmerizing really. The cold water didn’t seem to help much, the heat and colors just got worse.

I passed out at some point and woke up to find her skin back to normal again…,” he trailed off.

Xavier yearned to ask more, intrude on very personal ground by stepping into Logan’s head, but he resisted. He was adept at filling in the blanks and could gather a sketchy picture of what had happened. He pushed it aside and began focusing instead on the possible need for modification. “Perhaps we can design a new costume for her that would aid-“

“There’s more.” Logan interrupted.

Xavier bowed his head. “My apologies. Please continue.”

“She did what you wouldn’t.”

“Pardon?” He blurted, stunned at the accusation.

Logan turned, facing the Professor now. Too late now, he’d already said more than he had intended about it. “She showed me my past. Gave me the name I was born with. Gifted me with the knowledge of my parents whom I never knew. The life I had that I never knew existed.”

Surprise was evident on Xavier’s face, his eyes questioning. “An important breakthrough for you then.”

“The only reason I’m saying anything at all is because she did it as if it was as simple as snapping her fingers.” He snapped his own to punctuate the meaning of his words. “I think it has something to do with what’s happening to her.”

Xavier nodded in agreement. “There seems to be no limit to her powers.”

Logan sighed heavily and turned back to gaze outside. “Yeah, something like that.” His voice quieted as he stared at the grounds, unsure of what to say next.

“Scott brought those same concerns to me earlier.”

“Scott can go-“

“Logan.” Tersely, Xavier cut off the insult he was sure would follow. He stared at the man’s back and said nothing more until Logan turned to face him, his face pinching as he grimaced. 

“I’ll let you know if anything else happens that you should know.” He quickly strode through the doorway and disappeared down the hallway. Xavier maneuvered himself to rest where Logan had stood against the window. A vicious storm was brewing outside, the wind howling fiercely through the trees. Small puddles of water pooled in various spots on the lawn, collecting there to remain long after the storm’s passing. 

Charles realized that Logan’s concern was not unwarranted; especially considering what he had been through before bringing Jean back to the school. This new information was troubling and was increasingly making him doubt his choice to let Jean stay. He was confident his instincts were right, but he had been wrong before. What difference did it make now?

He wondered briefly where Eric was now. What sort of destruction he was hell bent on creating now. It seemed whenever they least expected it, Eric would show his face, a new plan in place to show humans just who was the dominate species. 

Or at least Eric’s idea of who was the dominate species.

This would certainly be the most inopportune time for Eric to reappear, the team in chaos, as lives were uprooted and allegiances tested. It was perfect opportunity for him to show his face.

Rolling his wheelchair away from the window, he sat quietly in the middle of the room, staring into space. There would be time, later, to deal with whatever was thrown their way; but for now, the entire school’s concern was on one single occupant.


	30. One Hot Night in Japan

She sat peacefully in the window seat, staring out at the formal gardens while the rain lightly fell outside. It had let up from the earlier downpour; soon the clouds would be run off and the sun would shine once again. Like those clouds and for the first time since she had come to the school as a young girl, she felt like an outcast.

Students would snicker and point as she walked by. The glares and gestures obvious behind her back as conversations would come to a screeching halt when she entered a room. She was their teacher for Pete’s sake. She shouldn’t let it bother her, especially from a bunch of teenagers.

She crumpled the staff meeting agenda in her hand and held it out in front of her in her palm. With little effort and concentration, the single sheet of paper ignited and blazed brightly. 

It was still burning in her hand when Logan found her sitting there. He touched her shoulder lightly and she jumped, dropping the quickly charring remains to the floor. He stamped out the small fire with his foot and scattered the remaining ashes. “Everything okay?”

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and she grimaced when the wind pressed against the window. “About normal.”

“You just nearly set the cushion you’re sitting on ablaze and you say that’s normal?”

Pushing herself off the cushion she crossed the room. “For right now it seems.”

He nodded and dipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “The Professor said something about altering your uniform to allow for the high temperatures you’ve been experiencing.”

“So what, I’m supposed to wear it all the time since it seems to happen whenever it pleases? He doesn’t even want me back on the team and he wants me to wear a uniform?”

“It was just an idea, Jean.” Although even he didn’t sound convinced.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and sighed. “Sorry. I’m just tired. I get punchy when I get tired.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

Her silence confirmed his suspicions. He knew the signs, recognized the symptoms. Was guilty of them himself countless times when he wanted to avoid the inevitable. “You’ll feel better if you try to get some sleep.”

“I’m aware of that, Logan.” Her voice was sharp and she easily avoided his outstretched hand by crossing her arms and clutching them around her waist. 

His eyes became thin slits as they narrowed. “Do you expect me to sit idly by and watch? Keep quiet while I see the hell that you’re going through?” 

“In a word – yes.”

His face changed, becoming harder, the lines of hostility returning. She hadn’t seen them since the night he had learned who he was. “Fine.” The single word was forced tersely through closed lips and he spun on his heel, leaving the room in a rush of movement.

What else was she supposed to do? Things were changing inside of her, her temper nearly uncontrollable at times and she worried about having those she loved near her. 

Movement outside caught her eye and she watched him stalk his way across the lawn. She thought she was getting used to this, his running at the barest hint of emotional upheaval, but she was going through enough on her own here without having to deal with his gloominess as well. He stripped his leather coat off as he disappeared into the garage. 

She pushed herself away from the window and her stomach grumbled loudly. The kitchen was empty when she arrived, a fact she was highly grateful for. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone else right now. Lifting a few packages in her hands, she juggled them, turning to close the door with her foot. She jumped when the stainless steel fridge door closed and Emma was standing there staring at her.

She fumbled the bag of shredded turkey, catching it by the top corner just as a perfectly ripened tomato splattered on the tan ceramic tiles. Emma smiled wryly and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she absently wiped the splash of tomato juice from on her brown leather boots. She pushed her way past Jean and opened the door, reaching into the fridge. Popping the tab of the diet soda, she settled onto a barstool at the marble topped island as she watched Jean clean up the pulpy mess. Once finished, she then made herself a sandwich and replaced the items when she was done with them. 

“Settle in all comfy?” Disdain dripped from the words as Emma spread a fake smile on her face.

Jean bit into her sandwich and popped the tab on her own diet soda. The bread passed thickly through her throat and she grimaced when it slipped into her stomach and sat like a lead weight. Appetite lost, she scooped up the remaining sandwich and dumped it into the trashcan. Exasperated, she finally acknowledged Emma. “Please tell me why you care?”

Emma batted her powder blue eyes, her long lashes brushing against the tops of her cheeks and she lifted a hand to rest her chin against. “Can’t I show concern for a good friend?”

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “Pardon me for being skeptical.”

“Oh, I understand completely. There’s just bad blood between us and I want to clear it up.”

“Shove it up your sardonic ass, Emma.”

Emma’s hands lifted in a signal for a truce. “Honestly Jean – you’re so paranoid.”

“Forgive me for not coming to you for a shoulder to lean on, crying and bawling that you found what I lost. You got him Emma, no need to wave it around in my face.” 

She pouted then, hurt that Jean would think she had ulterior motives. “I simply wanted to express my concern.”

“About?”

“You. You’ve seemed different since your miraculous return. And it’s not just us on the team noticing. The children are frightened and wondering if you’re going to stay. Are you feeling well?”

The saccharin sound of her voice was beginning to give Jean a headache. She snorted and rolled her eyes as she finished off her soda. Crumpling the empty can between her hands, she tossed the wrinkled aluminum into the trashcan. “Sick at the moment. Funny though, it only seems to happen when you’re around. What do you want?”

“What everyone else wants. World peace.” She delicately lifted her soda to her lips and took a few sips.

“Please.” Jean started to walk out of the kitchen but was brought up short by the whispered words she heard. A vivid image accompanied the words, whispering around the picture and threading through it. She wasn’t familiar with the room, the area, but the occupants were startlingly familiar. Emma’s voice sounded in her head again sending threads of ice down her spine. Her red hair flared out as she spun around, green eyes flashing in disbelief. “What?”

Emma smiled mysteriously and dumped her nearly full can of soda into the recycling bin. “Maybe I’m not the one you should be asking.” Sauntering past Jean, she crossed to the den and disappeared, leaving the door open slightly behind her. Her voice cooed Scott’s name as she settled onto the couch beside him. 

Jean watched them momentarily through the small crack in the door, her blood temperature spiking when Emma purposefully glanced her way before pulling Scott against her in a passionate kiss.

Before she realized it, she was standing outside the large garage door watching Logan work on his motorcycle. Metal clinked against metal as he tightened a bolt on the casing and wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. Grease streaked up his forearms and coated his palms in a shiny thick layer. Even in just the short time he had been outside working, he had thrown himself completely into his work.

“Emma just paid me a visit.”

He kept his face blank, void of any emotion or surprise. He had expected Emma to move in on Jean a lot sooner than she did. “Oh yeah? So what did blondie have to say?”

She watched him continue to work, silently waiting for him to add more. There seemed to be something that had happened that he wasn't talking about. Recently it seemed like there was something he wasn't saying. He said nothing however so she continued herself. “She wants me to leave.”

He wasn’t surprised. “Not like Emma to feel threatened.”

“She thinks I’m a danger to the children. Her concern for them is keeping her awake at night.” Picking up a screwdriver, she frowned and leaned against the workbench, tossing it between her hands. 

“And what do you think?” He questioned, resting his hands on his thighs as he studied her face, forgetting about the oil on his hands. A frown winkled her forehead showing she was deep in thought. 

The screwdriver clanked to the wood tabletop and she pushed herself away to cross the open area. “I’m not sure anymore. I’m not sure about anything really.”

His eyes darkened at hearing her words and he wondered if Emma had gotten to her more than she was leading him to believe. He carefully scratched under his nose, leaving a small smudge of oil. He contemplated what to say because there really didn’t seem to be any words of comfort that he could offer that wouldn’t sound hollow at this point. She had expressed her disinterest in him interfering with what was going on with her and he was loathed to push her anymore than he already had. 

He chose to say nothing, tossing the tool down to the ground and picked up a socket wrench to make some final adjustments before cleaning up. 

Her finger gently scraped down his temple when she came to stand next to him. The images flashed by in a blur of motion, only appearing for a fraction of a second before disappearing. She was frantically sorting through his memories to seek out some snippet of information, searching for the memory she’d absently pulled before so easily. 

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks an instant before she found it.

There was a quick flash of skin, a glimpse of a face that wasn’t there before and he jerked away, severing their connection by springing up to stand. His eyes were wide in surprise and the socket wrench in his hand clattered to the concrete floor, the heavy clunk of solid metal loud in the quiet garage. 

She stumbled backward, putting a hand up to stop his forward progress toward her. He reached for her flailing arms, briefly capturing her forearm in his hand. The oil coating his hands acted like a lubricant and she was able to wrench her arm away, leaving a thick black streak of oil on the buttery leather. 

He swore and grabbed for a utility rag before coming to her despite her objections. Wiping the rag roughly over his hands, he tossed it to the side when he had removed as much of the grease as he could.

A tool chest clattered against her calves and she tumbled over it, landing hard on her tailbone. The sharp pain only fueled her anger and her eyes became ringed with fire. It was only then that he stopped, his boots connecting hard with the face of the tool chest she had just toppled over.

Scrambling to her feet, she adjusted the leather coat around her shoulders, ignoring the ruined fabric on the sleeve. She struggled to collect herself, not be so astonished by what she saw. She should have expected it really, nothing seemed the same anymore. Everyone who she was so sure of before were surprising her right and left recently.

He stepped over the tool chest, reaching out for her. He hissed sharply when his hand felt like it was on fire as it came within inches of her. Snatching his hand back, he dropped it to his side, disconsolate that he was getting nowhere. “You know there’s an explanation.”

She gave a derisive snort and swung around him in a wide berth as she circled around him to exit the garage. He stared at her retreating back as she disappeared into the mansion.


	31. Gentlemen Prefer Redheads

A few hours later, he visibly jumped when he walked into his room and saw her lying on her side, spread out across his bed without a scrap of clothing on. The room was dark save for the thin thread of fiery light that surrounded her. She ran a hand slowly down the length of her body, her eyes never leaving his.

He quickly shut the door behind him and despite his first instinct; he leaned forward, jerking the sheet up to cover her. She brushed it away as it fell through the air and rose to her knees. “What’s wrong, Logan? Isn’t this what you want?”

He crossed to the closet, noting the new uniform that hung on the door. The thin, flexible leather of her suit was shiny and cool to the touch when he ran his finger along it. The Professor certainly works fast he thought, as he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it onto the hook just inside the door.

“Or do you prefer this?” Turning, he watched her red hair subtly change at first, the golden hue so minute he thought he had imagined it. In a flash, the auburn locks were a sunny shade of blonde and blue eyes stared back at him, replacing the emerald ones he was used to. She smiled, a hand dipping down between her legs as her voice purred in pleasure. “Come to bed.”

Furious, he crossed to the bed and had her gasping out in shock when his hands closed over her wrists. He jerked her arms out away from her and held them tightly in his own. “Stop it Jean. I never claimed to be perfect and it was sex. Straightforward, to the point, meaningless sex.” 

Disgusted, he dropped her arms and sat heavily on the bed facing away from her as he rubbed his fingers over his temples. “One night of very adolescent behavior, a moment of stupidity, in Japan.”

“Emma is apparently a very busy woman.” Her voice was hollow and callous. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was an unfamiliar one. An act of childish desperation because she was hurt, she just didn’t completely understand why.

He shook his head and bent forward, speaking more to the floor than to her. “It was just sex, Jean. Nothing else but sex between two very consenting adults. I used her and she used me. It was a way to drown my own sorrows for not having what I wanted the most. I knew I couldn’t have you so she was the substitute that was handy at the time.” 

“That seems a very popular theme recently.” She said to his back, her voice softening a little even though her mouth became a thin line as she pressed her lips together.

He continued, ignoring the contempt he still heard in the undercurrent of her voice. “If it hadn’t been her, it would have just been some other woman. At the time though, for a little while, at least, we both forgot. It was an imperfect idea in an already less than perfect world. It made sense at the time.”

“And now?”

“Now?” He shrugged. “Emma’s Emma and I’m sorry you had to deal with that. With her. With all of this - crap.”

Resigned, she wrapped the sheet around her now, settling herself on the side of the bed next to him. Was there anything she could say after doing what she’d just done? She had dealt with the image, the knowledge that had confronted her when she went to Scott. He had moved on, pushed thoughts of her away to move on with his life. It didn’t bother her that much, she realized, and wondered if she had ever really loved Scott at all. The fact that both of them moved on so easily spoke volumes.

Maybe she had been prepared for what she found with Scott moving on to someone else. A slight, minuscule piece of her that wanted him to move on and find someone else. Possibly finding something that the two of them had not had.

But Logan?

She had not been prepared for that. The image she had come across, the one she had been purposefully searching for. It was wrong, she knew, to intrude into his thoughts as she had. But she had to know. Had to find out for sure because the nugget of doubt would weigh heavily on her and she would not be able to let it go.

That brought the grand total to twice that she had invaded without his permission. The first time she had given him a piece of himself that he had been searching for. This time she had taken something ruthlessly and given nothing in return.

She could forgive herself for the first.

Could he forgive the second?

She spoke softly so that he had to strain to hear her even with his heightened hearing. It was almost as if she were afraid to hear her own voice verbalize the apology. She repeatedly clenched and unclenched her hands, running them over the soft cotton covering her thighs. 

He saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and pressed his hands over hers to still them as he slid off the bed and kneeled before her. 

She smiled down at him, clearing her throat to steady her voice. “I never thought you were, never even expected you to be, perfect. Needless to say though that it was quite a shock and I never expected to see what I did. I behaved irrationally and I apologize.”

His fingers traced along the back of her hands, smiling at her apology. “I didn’t expect you to go digging for it. I should have said something earlier.”

She lifted her hand from under his and brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “No, you shouldn’t have. And I shouldn’t have gone looking for it. It’s none of my business and what you have done in the past is just that – the past.” 

His curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked the question he had been wondering about since he had first learned about Emma and Scott. “Why didn’t you confront him sooner? You had to know.”

She nodded in confirmation. “I did. I suppose I was afraid speaking it out loud would make it true. If I said anything, we’d be finished. My head was trying to tell me that I should have, but my heart refused to listen at first.”

“That’s why you walked out of the plane that day, wasn’t it?” He asked, afraid to hear the answer he was dreading.

“No.” It surprised him to hear that, it wasn’t the word he was expecting from her. She saw the puzzled look in his eyes and decided to better explain herself. “I saw that I could do something to save everyone. Better to lose one life than a whole plane full.”

“But it made it easier, didn’t it?” Again, another question he dreaded the answer to.

“Yes.” She said in affirmation.

They sat quietly, not speaking as this new information between the two of them sank in and simmered. The ticking of his watch sounded in the quiet; each movement of the second hand punching through the silence. Distracted with his thoughts as he was, he flinched when she reached for him this time and was instantly sorry for it when she moved her hand away. Reaching up, he quickly seized her hand with his own and wrapped her warm hands around his jaw line, the sheet she was holding in place slipping slightly from around her.

“I acted childishly but yet you explained anyway. You didn’t just storm out and fume off into a corner somewhere to brood silently. Not your usual actions and I appreciate that. I know it wasn’t easy for you to stay.”

His head dipped in agreement. “Not like that was normal behavior for you either, but you were understandably upset by the circumstances.” He made a split second decision and her fingers settled over his lips as he started to speak again. He grasped her hand in his; pulling it away from his mouth so he could speak unimpeded. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. About how I should have gone back there sooner. When we thought you were dead, I felt like this huge chunk of me was gone. I didn’t even try to fill it with anything. Anyone. I wanted to feel the ache because it meant that what I felt was real and not just a longing for some meaningless roll in the hay.”

She gasped, stunned at his words. What did you respond with when someone said something like that to you? Earlier, she had been expecting to unleash her jealousy on him, pour forth the rage that lay inside of her at what she discovered despite not having a right to. Instead he blew her away. Now, a simple apology and thank you seemed insignificant.

He settled back on his heels and sensing her inner conflict, changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to find you here.” 

“Why?”

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. His eyes scanned the sheet that now laid puddle around her waist, noted her skin gave off a constant rich gold light now, deepening from its earlier sunny yellow. He reached forward, tugging it up to cover her once again. “Thought this was the last place that you’d come after what you saw in the garage.” 

“I told you once that I wouldn’t run. I was just shocked because I wasn’t expecting it. Took me by surprise.” She could see the pain reflected in his brown eyes, the acceptance he had because he was used to people leaving. Abandoning him when he usually needed it the most; just like she had felt abandoned. “You are far too used to someone leaving just like you do when the going gets rough. Unfortunately, you picked the wrong girl to try that on this time because I’m not going anywhere again. Just like last time I had the chance; this time I’m not choosing to leave. You’re stuck with me so you are just going to have to deal with it.”

Something in his eyes changed and she watched the light come back into them. His mouth quirked up in a smile. “That was a good speech. You rehearse it beforehand?”

She cuffed him lightly on the ear. “I just decided.”

“Decided what?”

“To stay here and work with the Professor and try to figure out what’s going on with me.” 

“You were really going to leave?” 

“We were really going to leave.” She stressed the first word, making the meaning clear.

“And just where – huh?”

“I did say you were stuck with me.” Absently she ran a hand over her hair, a light bead of sweat forming as her temperature rose despite her efforts to keep it under control. “I gave up everything before. I’ve been given a second chance and I’ve decided to do things differently this time.”

“No running?”

Their eyes met and she smiled, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. “No more running.”

Her lips were hot against his and he pulled back, lifting her to her feet by pulling on her hands. “Let’s get you into the shower then. See if we can’t do something about getting your temperature back down to normal before you worry Emma anymore.” He winked at her before she disappeared into the bathroom and felt the warmth settle comfortably into his stomach. He had said what he had wanted to say for what seemed like forever. 

It felt good. 

Right, even though he wasn’t able to fully explain it to her and was certain he never would be able to.

Her head appeared around the door. “Are you coming?”

His response was muffled against the fabric of his dingy shirt as he pulled it over his head. 

“What did you say?”

A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. “I said, not yet, but I’m sure we can rectify that soon. And yes, I know –“

“Pervert.” They said together and laughed.


	32. A Kiss to Take the Sting Away

She faced the granite slab that stood before her, unblinking as she tried to comprehend the words written on it. Her name stared back at her in large block text and she felt the tears stinging behind her eyes.

The grave marker stood proud in the gardens she once tended so carefully on the weekends she had had free. Lush flowers were just off to both sides of the column and it appeared that someone was painstakingly looking after them week after week.

Nothing like standing over your own grave to make you come to terms with your own mortality. She had expected this, knew that coming here would be hard. It was why she had chosen to visit this very spot alone. To do this one thing for herself and face the facts that it was long since time for her to take responsibility for her life and the choices she had made that had brought her to stand in the graveyard. 

Memories began to wash over her then and she let them flow as freely as the creek that ran just off to her left. If she had cared to release herself of all these burdens, she could toss each one individually into the rush of icy water. But she had realized just this very day that each and every memory she carried made her the woman that stood here today.

An image formed in her head of her parents. She held it there and smiled, wondered how they were doing. Guilt for not contacting them washed over her and she had to stop herself from nearly running back inside the mansion to pick up the phone and call them. Surely Xavier had notified them of her passing and they deserved to know that she wasn’t dead after all.

Something made her give pause however, held her in the spot where she stood to keep her from reacting to her first thought. News of her death must have been traumatic for them both with Jean an only child. She couldn’t imagine the dark times that must have faced her parents in the days after they had learned of her death. 

She remembered her father’s stern words when she was younger and still lived with them. She had been levitating her cat, Percy, a few feet off the ground and he had caught her. Instead of yelling at her though, he had taken her up in his arms and held her there for what seemed like an eternity. 

“I knew you were special, Jean. You will have the world at your beck and call when you grow into a young woman. But you must learn to harness these gifts and control your urge to use them such as you were. You will find that not everyone is as kind as your mother and I.” He anchored his words with a kiss to her forehead and patted her shoulder softly.

It was that night that had cemented the thought in her parents’ minds to place a phone call to Charles Xavier. 

They loved her so much and she missed them terribly. If something happened to her now that she was back, she could never forgive herself for putting them through it all again. No, better to leave them with the belief that she was dead and gone. They should live out the rest of their days with the comfort that she was safely ensconced in the steel vault beneath the marker.

She thought of all the students she had taught and helped over the years of teaching at the school. Of all the bruises and scrapes she had mended with her special care for the kids. They usually came in with tears streaming down their cheeks, their eyes rimmed red from crying. Tears were dried, bandages doled out and plenty of TLC was given in healthy doses.

She had wanted children once. A long time ago when she was sure the world was going to be a very different place from where it stood right now. Through time though the thoughts had faded and she had learned to love each of the students at the school as if they each belonged to her.

She thought of Scott then. Of what they once had shared together. What they had once meant to each other. He had always been her confidant. The one she ran to whenever something funny happened to one of the new students when they discovered a new aspect to their powers. The one whose arms she fell into to feel comfort amid the horrors that they sometimes faced as part of the team.

Some people were never lucky enough to find even an inkling of the love she had shared with Scott. Yet here she stood with his love behind her and fresh, new love staring her in the face. How had she gotten to be such a treasure that she got to experience this type of love twice in her lifetime?

What made her so special?

White color caught her eye against the dark stone and she knelt to the ground. A single tulip had been tossed onto the base of the gravestone. Wait, no, not tossed. It had been placed. With great care too apparently. She smiled then as she lifted the flower to her face and carefully dragged the soft petals against her cheek.

She had scolded Logan once for brining her a huge spray of deep purple tulips from the gardens behind the mansion. Her scolding was half hearted at best and even he had known it at the time. The flowers had been tightly curled together, just days short of full bloom, and would have been magnificent had he not cut them from their place in the Earth. He had at least not just reached in, grabbed a handful and left a glaring hole in the flower bed. She had to give him credit for that at least. 

From that moment on, whenever she saw tulips, he entered her thoughts. A very well thought out move by him robbing the garden of those stems. Probably worth every second of any lashing she would have given him if you asked him.

A light mist began falling all around her and the chill of it snapped her from her thoughts. She sighed heavily and brushed her damp bangs out of her eyes so she could see the name one last time.

Resolve settled deep in her stomach then, a determination that she would never be buried here should her time come again. The marker would be necessary for those that felt the need to mourn her passing and unimportant to those that mattered the most to her. 

She was lucky dammit and she deserved every second of it. She was done with her old life, the one she had walked out of with each step she had taken out of the plane. A new life stood out before her and she was ready to meet it head on.

Fingering the necklace Logan had given her; she slowly backed away from the empty tomb and nodded once in acknowledgement to it. The marker would now serve as her goodbye to the old life and her old way of thinking. 

Life was about to change.


	33. Project Firebird

A lone female figure watched patiently while the occupants of the mansion settled in for the night. The bright glow of lights grew brighter as the sky overhead dimmed into darkness.

Around midnight the last lamp was turned off and a peaceful silence washed over the school and its grounds. The melodic rhythms of chirping crickets sounded around her, signaling the rapid birth of spring. The branches of the tree overhead moved, startling her and she braced to run back to her van. She relaxed however when she noticed a lone owl taking flight, heading out on an evening hunting mission for dinner. The flapping of his wings quieted as he flew into the distance and she turned her attention back to the matter at hand.

Stepping carefully around the tree, she approached the massive brick structure. There was little worry about the security system around the perimeter. She had effortlessly disabled it when she had first arrived. The system was easily manipulated. While it wasn’t top of the line, it wasn’t bottom of the barrel either. A few quick snips of her trusty wire cutters, a stolen key code and the mutants’ security vanished into thin air. So much for spare no expense. 

The room was faintly lit by a small nightlight when she looked in the window and she was pleased to see it was the library she was looking for. The plans she found on the internet were exactly as everything said it would be. While there were those humans who hated mutants, there were nearly five in their place who were fanatical about them. Xavier’s mutants were no exception. Unbeknownst to him, the X-Men had a huge cult following. And unknowingly those same fanatics had supplied her with everything she needed for the task at hand with just a click of the mouse.

The glass cutter squealed softly in protest as she cut a small hole just above the window lock. Carefully reaching inside, she snipped another trip wire and easily opened the single pane window.

Soundlessly, she slipped through the window and closed it behind her arranging the curtains to cover her entry point. She wasn’t ready at this point to educate the mutants that she had so easily been here. Better for them to discover on their own without her help.

She had strategically chosen to enter this window; it was the farthest point from the first floor bedrooms but would still allow easy access to the staircase to the second floor. It was also the least used room in the house as she had discovered during her recon missions. The mutants would take longer to discover her presence after she was gone than if she had entered through a more heavily traveled area.

Her thinly covered feet padded lightly on the carpet as she made her way up the staircase. Pausing momentarily, she oriented herself and turned right, counting the doors as she went. After a few turns, she stood in front of the door she was looking for. She smiled, running her gloved fingers over the varnished wood of the solid door. Just beyond lay the inert forms of Jean and Logan, both blissfully asleep.

Salvation.

She stood over them, sneering at the hand he rested lightly on Jean’s hip. Soon, he would be grasping nothing but pure heat. Moving to her side of the bed, she leaned over Jean and hesitated only briefly when his nose wrinkled and he inhaled deeply. Her thick, solid black catsuit had been specifically designed to block all scents, so she wasn’t worried he would smell her scent. He was a light sleeper however and she was careful to silently carry out her mission.

The skin on Jean’s shoulder gave easily and she sighed softly in her sleep as the plunger was depressed. The colorless liquid emptied from the vial in seconds and a small bead of blood welled up as the tiny needle was extracted. Triumphant, she dropped the used needle into the specially designed container at her waist and slipped from the room unnoticed.

Within minutes she was back in the aging van and stripping off the thick material encasing her head.

“Ecco to Eagle.” Breathing in pants, she struggled to catch her breath as she waited for a response.

The radio crackled to life. “Go ahead Ecco.”

She adjusted the earpiece around her earlobe and pulled the distressed van onto the main highway. “Initiate project Firebird. The package has been delivered.”

“Ten-four Ecco leader. Return to base.”

“Acknowledged Eagle base. Ecco leader returning to base, radio silence will be maintained until assigned marker.”

The static was her answer that her message was returned. Radio silence would be severed when she was within two miles of the base. It was standard operating procedure and the only way into headquarters. Card key readers had failed miserably as history had shown, for they were too easily stolen – even unintentionally. There could be no room for errors at this point. Nothing could stop her now. Riding high, she rolled the filthy window down and let the wind toss her brown hair around as she drove. With a sharp cry of triumph, she floored the vehicle and sped towards home.

Jean stood over the bed, the sheet he’d tossed off of them earlier wrapped around her lithe body. Carefully, she crossed to the picture window and stared outside. The moon beamed down from a cloudless sky, providing light to any creature that was stirring this night.

It had been several months since her return to the mansion and she was no closer to any answers than she had been before. The one person who could provide the possibility of answers she needed was gone, killed in the melee of their escape. Burned to nothing but ashes by a hand, that at the time, couldn't distinguish up from down.

Life was starting to return to a normal pace and she was scheduled to start teaching again next week. The unexplained outbreaks had been traced to a direct correlation with her emotions. Everyone seemed to be walking on egg shells around her and she had quickly tired from it.

She rubbed absently at a faint ache in her shoulder and she wondered if she had slept wrong on it again. A throat clearing turned her towards the bed and she smiled at the dark figure that sat up in the bed.

“What time is it?” His voice was still thick with sleep and he rubbed his fingers over his closed eyes in an effort to wake up fully.

“Just after four.”

He groaned. “God isn’t even up at this hour.”

She chuckled and winked at him in the dark. “God doesn’t have someone snoring in his ear.”

He winced, always less than happy to be reminded of his annoying habit. He had yet to tell her he had woken himself up a few times it had gotten so bad. “Everything alright?” His voice clear now as the last fingers of sleep loosened their grip. Worry was evident in his voice though, afraid her nightmares had returned.

His eyesight cleared enough now to notice the moonlight streaming through the window turned the white sheet she clutched to herself nearly transparent. 

Even in the dark she saw him shift uncomfortably in the bed, grabbing for the comforter that was balled up at the foot of the bed. A glint of mischief shined in her eyes and she turned to face him, dropping the sheet to the floor.

She stood before him wearing nothing but the pendant he had given her last December. His breath whistled past his teeth in a rush and he felt all the blood in his body drain to one singular appendage. “I take it that’s a yes.” His voice was strained and his muscles taut as he fought to not attack her where she stood. 

He swallowed hard and she smiled. “Doesn’t take much, does it?” Her voice low as she approached the bed like an animal stalking its prey.

“Never does.” 

She laughed out loud then, a throaty, emotion filled laugh that warmed him even further. He pulled her down to the bed, effortlessly shifting to lie on top of her. “No matter how naked you get, I’m not going to forget that something’s wrong.”

“Less talk.” She purred as she pulled him to her.


	34. Ignition

She blew a strand of brown hair out of her face and nodded to the guard as she passed. His eyes shifted downward and she sneered, still annoyed that to this day, even her own men couldn’t look her straight in the eyes. Who would want to honestly, she thought. She had had every mirror destroyed in the compound, refusing to even look at herself.

A hushed silence fell over the lab as she entered and she stalked to the main control panels, her jovial mood from earlier dissolved. “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I want everything ready. We can’t be sure how many to expect. I want you and your men prepared for anything.”

“Sir?”

“What is it, McKay?”

“Pardon my ignorance, sir. But how can we be sure they’ll come?”

A shadow of movement caught his eye and he nodded his head when the figure appeared from the shadows. “What do you think I just risked my skin for McKay?” An inhuman glint flashed in her eyes as she smiled at him and he recoiled slightly. 

She reached down and flipped a clear cover on a small domed button. The plastic clicked as it was depressed and the board in front of her illuminated.

“They’ll come.”


	35. That Which Goes Bump in the Night

She wrenched from sleep, sweat beading on her brow as she fought to control her breathing. Was there ever going to be an end to these horrible nightmares? 

Logan stirred beside her and she laid a gentle hand on his hip. He murmured something to her, a halfhearted attempt in his deep sleep to comfort her. “Shh.” She whispered. “It’s okay.”

He shifted to his other side and was lightly snoring in seconds. Smiling, she gathered her chartreuse terry cloth robe around her, tying it as she closed the door gently when she exited the room.

Insomnia could be categorized as better than those nightmares, but she wasn’t exactly sure how. Was she afraid to sleep now that those dreams had gotten progressively worse? It escaped her just how Logan was able to handle the awfulness of his own nightmares night after night but at least it helped shape her understanding of him a little bit more. 

Before she realized it, she felt cold concrete beneath her feet and found herself standing out on the patio that surrounded the Olympic sized swimming pool behind the mansion. How did she get here? Looking up, she saw thin, high clouds trailing across the sky, crossing in front of the moon and becoming transparent for a few short moments.

Something unknown called to her, pulling from deep within her. Wet grass clung to her feet as she crossed the back lawn, her path unknown. Heat built, a small ball of warmth slowly uncoiling within her. 

She fought against it at first; struggling to quell the war raging inside her. She wanted it to stop, had been just steps short of begging for it to end just a few short weeks ago. But she bit down, determined that she would gain control of this beast. Until this very second, she had been living with the assumption that she had some modicum of control. She was wrong.

Maybe that was why she kept waking night after night. She had noticed that whenever she had risen from the bed during a bout of insomnia, she would later face down the raging fire inside of her. Damn good thing she had come outside then.

It took only moments for her to realize that something was wrong. This time was different. The heat lashed at her and surpassed her will. Just as she opened her mouth to scream, it overwhelmed her; the fire instantly flashing to a white hot inferno.

Such awesome power, all consuming and perfect. It made her feel as if she could rule the world with just a snap of her fingers. Feeling lighter than air, she glanced down and saw she was a few feet above the ground. A loud bang reverberated around the grounds as she shot into the air and disappeared, free at least.

Logan woke with a start, shaking his head to clear the sleep from his brain. What the hell was that sound? His hand automatically reached beside him for Jean but came away with nothing more than a handful of cool sheet. Acid ate at his stomach; he was across the room and flying out the door without a second thought.

“Shit.” He swore and ducked back into his room to absently throw on a pair of worn flannel pants. He was greeted by Rogue’s small form the moment he stepped back out into the hallway.

“What was that?” Her southern accent was even heavier as it sung with sleep. She rubbed furiously at her eyes in an effort to clear them quickly.

Good, he hadn’t imagined it. Without a word to her, he streaked down the stairs, his eyes racing around for Jean as he ran full tilt through the ground floor of the house. Students began appearing one by one outside of their bedrooms, their eyes wide as his form flashed past them.

He picked up her scent near the kitchen and turned immediately, tearing through the screen door that led out back. Her scent was stronger here and he knew he was on the right path. His name was called behind him but he ignored it. Lungs breathed in even and steady, showing that despite all this activity he wasn’t even working up a sweat.

Black char had him coming to a dead stop as he rounded a corner and he stared in disbelief at the ground before him. The green grass was burned in a two prefect concentric rings.

Her favorite robe lay discarded carelessly to the side, the edges of it scorched from the apparently intense heat. He collapsed to his knees, gathering up the fabric between his hands and held t against his chest. Her scent overwhelmed him and he narrowed his eyes at the undercurrent of something different. Something that wasn’t entirely Jean.

Pounding feet sounded behind him and he dropped the robe, rose and turning his back on the remnants of her. He shouldered his way through the growing crowd and caught the eye of several of the team members. Hank grabbed for his arm as he passed but he wrenched away, shaking his head as fury propelled him with absolute focus. 

Damn if he was going to sit here and brood about her this time. If it took the rest of his unnatural life, he was going after her.


	36. Come Down To Me

The fire inside of her burned brightly, illuminating the entire sky as she propelled herself forward. Something called to her, guiding her with such ferocity she couldn’t help but listen to it. 

This was joy; this was how life should be led. Power coursing through your veins as you soared over the vast expanse of Earth. Nothing could stop her, could bring her down from her flight among the clouds. She executed a perfect barrel roll and her laughter trailed out behind her as she shot upward into a large, fluffy cloud that hung overhead.

Wasn’t there something she should be doing? Something that this power should be used for instead of playing like a five year old with a new toy. The thought of what she should be doing, where she should be escaped her though and she dipped below the clouds to gaze at the farmland that was miles below her.

Stupid humans, they had no clue what lay out before them. The time had come for change. For a new breed of excellence to reign over all who stepped foot on this planet. But why stop there, she thought. Glancing up, she shot vertical and raced further into the sky. Air thinned, but her breathing and the raging fire, never faltered. The firestorm around her actually grew as she punched through each of the atmospheres. 

Subtly at first, the blue began easing away to be taken over by the blackness of space. With a roar, she broke through the Kármán line, and rejoiced in the jet black expanse that welcomed her.

Where to start? She thought. Where to begin to once and for all show these humans that they were nothing more than a speck of dust in the universe? There were more grandiose plans in this world for life than the daily bustle and grin of getting the kids off to practice. A fresh start is exactly what this puddle of mud needed, a new beginning to get things rolling.

She hovered in space, the veil of stars surrounding her and twinkling with their dim light. They paled in comparison to her. She was the bright spark in this universe, the single being capable of shining on forever. Not just the Earth needed to be destroyed; every thing inside this universe would be eradicated.

All it would take was a thought. 

She lifted her hands in the weightlessness and cast her eyes to everything around her. Yes, just a simple, effortless thought and everything would be gone. She reached out with her mind and felt the flames flare around her as her powers reached out.

The wall slammed into her and she fought against it, angry that she couldn’t do exactly what she expected. Jean pushed against it, felt it refuse to conform to her demands. The barricade stubbornly stayed in place and it caused her to push harder. It gave slightly and she snatched the opportunity. 

Her reward was pain; immediate, all encompassing pain. The fire around her slipped away and the darkness of space pressed in around her. She screamed but the sound was lost in the vastness of space. It was then that she realized that she had been wrong. 

She was nothing.

Come down to me.

The words slid softly through her head and she searched frantically around her for who had said them. Confusion had her turning in all directions in search of answers. Without warning she clutched at her throat, frantically searching for air. A new blackness welcomed her and she succumbed easily to it, her energy spent from the carefree frolicking of earlier.

Her body fell into the stratosphere within seconds. A great ball of fire surrounded her, charring flesh down to bone in spots as she hurtled towards the Earth. She streaked across the sky; a bright stripe of fire burning brightly across the horizon in such a way that anyone standing on the ground would assume a piece of falling rock was entering the atmosphere.

Within seconds her body slammed into the ground, the impact jarring the forest floor and sending out shockwaves for miles. Her body drove into the ground, uprooting fresh grass and hundreds of fragrant blooming flowers. A large crater formed beneath her and dirt was thrown up into the air, blanketing the entire area with its fine grains.

It took several minutes for the area to settle from the chaos that she had caused from her fall and complete silence swathed the acres of trees that surrounded her. Easily she slipped into full unconsciousness and succumbed to what would become her own personal hell.

“Not exactly what I had planned, but who am I to quibble?” They finally had her back in their possession and the work that had been interrupted would continue.

She watched as her men made their way down the side of the crater, slipping in the dirt and grabbing for purchase wherever they could find it. They reached her quickly and began assessing the mutant’s condition.

“She needs to be moved to the compound for medical attention.”

Eyes rolled at the inane statement from the technician. She really was going to have to be more selective. “Thank you for that bit of obviousness. How soon can we start?”

The tech slid the stethoscope into his hand as he rose, idly tapping it against his leg. “I’d advise against it for a week or so.”

“You aren’t paid for your opinion, Mr. Lockcree.”

His head nodded slightly in concession. “I’d give her a day or so to heal, but you should be able to continue where things left off after that time.”

“Excellent.”


	37. With My Little Eye I Spy…

He watched the changing of the guards through the dense thicket of bushes he was hiding behind. He had found the base by sheer dumb luck a week ago and was itching for a fight. But even his need to get Jean back and out of that place wasn’t overruling common sense. 

The Professor had been insistent on sending some of the other team members to aid him. He, in turn, had been just as insistent on everyone staying planted firmly where they were for right now. He needed to learn the outer workings of the base, learn the guards’ schedules and habits first. The Professor had reluctantly agreed to give him three days more; after that he was sending in the rest of the team even if Logan had not made contact. 

There was going to be no easy way into the place. No duck and run without being seen. He was going to have to brazenly walk right in and take what he wanted. This was going to be bloody and hurt – a lot.

He lived for this kind of shit.

A flurry of activity caught his attention and a convoy of trucks moved away from the south end of the compound. Three hummers from the looks of it, he guessed. They drove slowly, without speed, their purpose clear only to themselves.

He moved carefully, trailing the vehicles as they maneuvered around to the far end of the base. Brake lights had him rooted to the spot and he crouched silently when the vehicles began pouring fourth their passengers.

His heart slammed violently in his chest and his breath caught when slender legs slowly emerged from the rear of the middle vehicle and flash of red was visible. She stood, surrounded by six heavily armed guards, her hands manacled tightly in front of her. They were similar in fashion to the ones that had held Mystique when she had posed as him at Stryker’s compound last year.

She was wearing a simple black tank and shorts, her red hair a tangled mass down her back. He heard one of the guards issue orders to move forward but she refused for whatever reason, staying rooted to the spot.

Why didn’t she just level them all with a thought?

The guard shouted his orders again and she shook her head in defiance. Six guns turned on her but she never flinched. His legs were screaming at him to run, hop the fence and put an end to all this madness but he knew better than that. Instinct told him the fence would be wired and surveillance would be tighter than if he tried to shove a lump of coal up Scott’s ass and waited for a diamond. No, better to stay for the moment at least.

All six guards issued orders in unison, but again, she refused to budge an inch. One of the weapons flashed out and he could hear, even from this distance, the sharp crack of the butt of the gun as it slammed onto her head. His voice died in his throat as she crumbled to the ground, lest he give away his position and his advantage.

The guards hauled her up and disappeared inside of the building within seconds. He disappeared into the woods slowly, carefully picking his way back to where he had been holing up earlier. He was going to have to work fast and get her out of this godforsaken place so this hell would be over for all of them. But it would have to wait until nightfall so darkness would give him cover.

He was already at a huge disadvantage here, why deal them any more cards in their favor?

The fire roared before him, casting the long shadow of his pencil on the notebook as he scribble furiously away. This was all going to go to pot if they didn’t plan carefully. He reluctantly lifted the comm set that 'Hank had been insistent he take with him and pressed the buzzer to signal his call.

Hank’s voice responded almost immediately. “Logan.”

“Hank, I think I’ve got a way to pull this off, but I’m going to need some reinforcements.” The reluctance was thick in his voice as he didn’t bother trying to cover his hesitation at asking for help. 

“We’ll be there within the hour.”

The comm clicked off and absently, Logan tossed it to the ground next to his pack. 

***

“You pathetic asshole.”

The guard backed away until his back contacted with the wall. Now he wished for some mutant capabilities; posses the ability to fade away into oblivion. 

She came forward toward him with a streak of blood trailing down her forehead onto her cheek. She carelessly wiped at it, streaking the liquid across her face. The synthetic cascade of red hair hit the ground with a thud and her eyes were wild with anger. “You were under strict orders to not manhandle the prisoner. Orders that I gave you myself. You could have jeopardized the entire mission if he had seen my face instead of hers.”

“Sorry, sir.”

The men moved to steer clear of her as she screamed in a fit of rage. “What in the hell were you thinking? Wait, don’t answer that, “ she added, holding up a hand to silence him. “You obviously weren’t thinking at all.”

She marched near him and scooped up the wig that had fallen to the floor. “When am I going to get some competent help?” She muttered rhetorically. The men began to relax as she passed; sure their date with her temper had flared, then passed.

That was where they were mistaken. She neatly flipped the rifle out of the last guard’s hands and had fired off three rounds before anyone could blink an eye. The solider slipped to the ground in a lump, a large streak of blood smearing the wall where he had once stood.

With a smile, she tossed the gun back to its owner. “Fucking damage control. Get someone to clean up that mess before I have to make an example of him to everyone else that works here. Make sure you tell the rest of your buddies that any further incidents of insubordination will be dealt with in the same manner.” She tapped his cheek twice and disappeared down the hallway.

***

He checked his watch again, willing time to speed up. This whole experience was proving, once again, that he did not have the patience for this sort of thing. Better to race in and sort out everything later, after all the dust had settled. He wasn’t entirely confident that Charles’s plan was going to go off without a hitch. Of course, if this failed, all that was left was to just hack his way in and hope for the best. 

Sloppy, but no one was grading him on his style.

He glanced at his watch again and downshifted the rig. 

“Ever driven one of these?” The Professor asked; his voice filled with nervous energy to have his team all together again and this crisis over with.

“Nope, always been a fast learner though.” The gears ground loudly in protest and he grimaced while trying to finesse the gears again.

“Perhaps you should learn faster.” The rig gained speed just as it crested the rise and the brakes squealed loudly in protest when he depressed them. “Hunk of junk it seems.”

“Piece of shit is more like it.” Logan said with a wry smile.

The eighteen wheeler rolled to a stop and the guard signaled for him to lower his window. “How are they not going to recognize me?”

“Just leave that to me.” The Professor said as another guard knocked on the passenger window and Logan depressed the lever to lower it as well. 

“State your business.”

Logan sighed heavily inside and hoped like hell whatever the Professor was planning was going to work. “Gas delivery.”

Both guards eyed him suspiciously and the hesitation to let him pass was evident. Adamantium itched to be released but the sound of the Professor’s voice had him relaxing his hands.

“He is not the mutant you are looking for.”

The guard next to him cleared his throat. “This isn’t the mutant we’re looking for.”

“You have no more questions and will let him freely pass.”

“Let him pass.” The guard next to Logan stated and both men jumped from the cab, waving the rig forward to pass through the opening gate. Logan smiled wide and the rig lurched forward as he popped it into gear.

“You enjoy that?”

The Professor’s laughter resonated in his head. “If you can’t have a little fun now and then with the bad guys, really, what is the point?”

“Never would have pegged you for a Star Wars geek.”

“There are many things in life Logan that are better off unexplained.”

He shook his head in amusement and shifted gears again, pegging the speedometer out as high as it would go. “Five minutes and I should be good to go.”

The Professor’s voice was as clear as day in his head. “Hank informs me that there should be another checkpoint approaching that you will need to stop at.”

The brake pedal popped once under Logan’s boot and immediately slapped against the floor as the hydraulics failed. “Where in the hell did you find this rusted bucket of bolts?” He lifted his foot to pump the pedal, hoping for a least a little bit of luck, something, anything. “No dice, Charlie.”

He blew through the checkpoint at top speed and the shouts of protest faded quickly as he put distance between himself and the guards. The gearshift rattled in his hand and he pulled with force to get the engine to downshift. “If anyone has any brilliant ideas I could really use them about now.”

This is not what he had planned. It was supposed to be an easy, nearly effortless job to just get onto the base. Drive the tanker right in, abandon it at the tank farm and none of the security would be any the wiser to his presence on the base. Sure he was going to make a hell of a lot of noise once he got where he was going in the lab, but the element of surprise was shot all to hell now.

The tank farm quickly approached over the rise and a cold sweat beaded up on his skin. “Shit, this is really gonna hurt.” He futilely tapped the brake pedal and fought with the gearshift one last time. He knew it was hopeless but he could always hope that one last ounce of luck was on his side.

Apparently today was just not his day. The tanker slammed into the pumps and exploded on impact. Debris and flames rained down over the complex and he could see the roofs of various buildings catching on fire as he crawled from the mangled wreckage. Voices yelled through the smoke and flame as he began to pick his way across the base to the lab building where Jean had been taken a few days ago.

Limping from the broken tibia, he zigzagged his way away from the disaster. Skin began knitting back together and the second and third degree burns on his arms and legs began slowly healing. This was always the worst part of healing this quickly; he could literally feel his skin knit itself back together as it repaired itself. The ache in his leg decreased slightly and he estimated that within a few minutes the bone would be healed completely. 

When he reached the building, he found the eastern most corner of the building on fire as well as the roof. Instinct told him that the lab would be well underground but the guards would be so busy with the fire at the tanks it would be hours before they reached these buildings. Static crackled over his forgotten ear communicator.

“Logan, what the hell is going on?” Scott’s voice broke through the interference.

“Uh, we have a bit of a problem.”

“The loud explosion and fireball in the sky gave that away.” Scott retorted dryly. “What happened to going in quietly?”

“I improvised.” He lied, not willing to concede that it had been poor planning on his part – again. “I need you guys to buy me some time.”

“The guards should be busy – “

“The lab building is on fire. You want to see Jean alive again, I need some maneuvering room.”

“Storm’s on her way.” Logan tossed the comm device to the ground and carefully began to make his way into the building. He had unknowingly walked into a trap last time and he wanted to be sure that didn’t happen again.

He easily dispatched the first two guards he came upon; tossing the ammo from their weapons well beyond their reach should they wake up anytime soon. A soft voice sounded over the intercom system that all essential personnel should report to the south yard for an emergency. 

Good, he thought, better than around here where he was. A noise had him stopping short and ducking behind a few packing boxes that were stacked in the hallway. He slipped out as soon as the group had passed, they would surely be back this way within moments of finding the two guards knocked out just beyond the turn. 

Time to get moving, he said to himself. He sniffed once and blindly began allowing his heightened sense of smell to guide him along. He was so focused on it and finding Jean, he missed the sound of a gun cocking and only looked up when the cold blue steel buried itself in his chest. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. He would kick his own ass right now if it wasn’t about to be handed to him on a wide sterling silver platter. The explosion had him blinking and he cursed himself again when he fell to his knees as the bullet buried itself in the left chamber of his heart. 

“You’ve really got to stop letting your dick lead you around, Logan. That woman is going to get you killed yet.”

Blood bloomed in a circular pattern on his tee and his eyes rolled back into his head; unconsciousness taking him as his heart stilled. Well, at least he had been right – it had hurt a lot.


	38. In Which Even More is Revealed

Fog surrounded him and he shook his head against its murky depths. His chest still ached from the gunshot but that would slowly fade in time. Some rescue mission this turned out to be.

He heard footsteps and stilled, wanting to further drag out letting them think he was still unconscious. 

“Have a nice nap?” He said nothing, breathing evenly and deeply as if he were asleep. “Give it up Logan, I know you’re awake. The bullet that was lodged in your heart showed up about fifteen minutes ago and then it was just a matter of time.”

His head lifted then, his eyes taking in the lab around him. Familiar, but different. The woman who had spoken to him earlier turned, her smiling face looking straight at him as she walked forward.

“You look well for a woman that’s supposed to be dead.”

“And you look like shit for a man that’s supposed to be alive and in love no less. I mean, you’d have to be to come all this way after a woman.”

He sneered. “Where is she, Callista?”

“Why is it that the hero always wants to know where the love of his life is? The very one that he’s come to rescue but managed to get himself caught like a bumbling idiot. They just all expect that the big bad villain of the movie is just going to spill their guts out and suddenly come out as clean as a whistle. All is forgiven.” She threw her hands up in the air in demonstration. “I assure you Wolverine, I am a big bad villain who knows exactly how to play the cards she’s been dealt.”

He studied her face as she spoke, noticed subtle differences that he hadn’t been aware of before as she came closer. Something was different, something off. “You’re not Callista.”

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth turned up slightly in a sly sneer. Her brown hair fell around her face as she leaned forward into a slight bow. With a flourish, she rose and approached him, stripping off a glove to trace a finger down his cheek.

He felt a conscience pressing down over him and he fought to push it away. It persisted however and his eyes went wide in shock as he realized she had just made herself a part of him. His hands pressed hard into the steel bands encasing them and he fought against the pain that bloomed. He roared as the metal tore against his skin.

“My conscience, your pain. Don’t worry,” she said as she backed away. “The echo is only temporary; I don’t quite live up to my codename just yet. One of my flaws unfortunately.” She turned; exposing the wide open panel in the back of her thick black coat that he thought covered her from neck to toe. It exposed her bare back to him through the cutout, thick ropes of scarred skin streaking across her back and marring the skin. “My second. Thanks to both of you.”

“You were there, in the bunker.” He spoke through his teeth, fighting to maintain his hold on himself. 

She nodded and turned to face him again as his body stilled as the last threads of her touch left him. “Who do you think supplied Callista with all those men, those scientists?”

“She was trying to figure out what made mutants tick.”

“Yes, that’s what she told you. That she studied you paltry mutants, but she was also out to create a more advanced mutant. Eradicate your flaws and define new boundaries.”

“But why destroy mutants? Wouldn’t that mean your destruction as well?”

“I wasn’t always this way.”

Horror chilled his nerves and a shiver raced up his spine. “She made you.”

“I volunteered.” She hissed, her fists balling at her side. “I willingly let her test on me to further advance her work.”

“But something happened.” he stated, already aware of the response. 

She stared out over the lab below and watched the processes being carried out in preparation for the procedure. “My capabilities are – less than perfect. As you saw, my imprint is only a temporary measure.”

“Why us then? What do you need us for? Any mutant could be used for what you need.”

The soft rustle of her hair could be heard as she shook her head. “No. We discovered the mutant gene has replicated itself, mutated for lack of a better word.”

It all made sense now; Jean’s heightened powers, unexplained capabilities. She had evolved. 

Just as he had.

His body had adapted from need, the claws inside of him bone and his body had prepared itself for the day the inevitable would happen. He stared down at his hands, knew the lengths of metal that lay hidden beneath his skin. 

The memories Jean had given him flooded back now and a faint sting between his knuckles had him flexing his hands. Had his own body developed an almost instantaneous second genetic mutation the moment he had first extracted his claws? His body’s way of protecting itself from bleeding out and dying?

She watched the realization shadow his eyes. “We were able to draw you out of hiding, easily capture you and begin a battery of tests. They proved inconclusive however, so I decided that if her research was going to press forward, she would need a test subject. We both knew your capabilities and assumed I would take on the same mutant abilities. To someone trained as I was, it would prove a valuable asset. Also, based on what we knew, you appeared to have two mutations – unheard of and exactly what we were searching for.”

“But you didn’t, did you?.”

“Not in the way we had hoped, I have some level of regeneration but nowhere near the caliber that you possess. The cells didn’t mutate as they were supposed to in previous tests. The human body fights naturally, it is its own defense mechanism really.” 

“So fine, you’ve got us back now. What are you going to do with Callista dead?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” The rustle of fabric accompanied the voice behind him and had him turning his head to the doors. Disbelief froze in his stomach and he blinked hard a few times in an effort to make certain he was not hallucinating.

The fire at the complex had not been kind to her. Scar tissue marred the left side of her face, spreading down her neck and disappearing under the collar of the white lab coat she was wearing. He could see the barest hint of white gauze under the hem of her knee length skirt, suggesting the scarring continued down the length of her side. She moved with carefully calculated movements and a slight limp.

“Surprised to see me or disappointed that your girlfriend’s effort to burn me alive failed?”

“You don’t deserve to live.” He spit the words at her.

“I’ll take that as disappointment.” Callista answered her own question and crossed her arms as she stared at Logan. Amy spoke softly to her sister, guiding her to the switchboard in front of the panoramic window to the lab. He struggled to hear their hushed tones but could hear no more than bits and pieces of words. Frustration spiked and he cleared his throat. Both women turned to face him, their twin gray eyes flat with annoyance at being disturbed.

“Yeah, remember me? The guy whose life you ruined?”

Both women snorted in unison and turned back to each other, huddling over the handheld computer Callista had in front of her.

“Can we be sure of the reaction?”

“With ninety-nine percent certainty. You won’t feel a thing, just some minor discomfort in the beginning similar to last time.”

Amy’s mouth thinned as she pressed her lips together. “I don’t remember much about last time. Just do whatever it is that you need to do.”

Callista nodded and pressed the intercom button on the console. “Are we ready?”

A technician gave her a thumbs up sign from the laboratory floor. “Good. We’ll be down shortly.” She flipped the button again and adjusted her glasses more securely on her face. “Are you ready to watch history being made and humanity changed forever?”

Amy shot her a puzzled look but brushed it away when Callista came over to give her a quick hug. “Go on down, the technicians will get you comfortable. I want to take a few more readings before we proceed.”

Logan watched Amy exit the lab and turned his head toward Callista, a wry smile on his face. “You haven’t told her, have you?”

She ignored him and tapped readings into her computer. Her lips moving soundlessly as she worked, her forehead lined as she concentrated on the information in front of her. She extracted a small, hand held radio out of her lab coat pocket and depressed a button in the center.

“Sir?”

“Make sure everything’s in place. I want them both heavily sedated so there are no problems.”

“We’re readying them both right now.”

“Signal me when you’re ready.” She turned to face him now, the radio dropping into her pocket. 

“Some sister you are.”

“What I do, I do because I love my sister.”

He snorted and she crossed the room to stand just inches in front of him. “I’m giving her and every normal person on this planet a fighting chance.”

“By screwing evolution?”

“By advancing the evolutionary process hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years. You mutants are a blight to humanity. A glitch in the system. It was either join you or eradicate you. I possess the science to make the leap forward.”

“And what about you? You’re still just a normal human.”

She scowled; loathed being reminded of her shortcomings. “My time will come.”

“You’re waiting aren’t you? Waiting for the process to be perfect.”

“I don’t have to inform you or anyone else of my reasons.” 

He pushed on, ignoring her words. “When it does, you’ll use the technology on yourself and lead this sick, twisted world you want to create.”

“Life is already sick and twisted. I’m out to make it better for everyone.”

“Without giving them a choice?”

“You weren’t given one.”

“And see how bitter I am? I was born this way, with these claws. Stryker just made them sharper.” He said, speaking of the knowledge of his past for the first time to someone other than Jean. “I accepted that. It took me a damn long time to get that way, but I did. My hostility now is directed at those who changed what I was because of their delusions of grandeur.”

“Change is inevitable.”

“In its own time. Evolution takes care of itself without you fucking with it.”

The radio in her pocket beeped twice but she ignored it. “I seek to put mutants and humans on level ground. Make everyone the same and equal.”

“Then you’re no better than Hitler.”

The slap was sharp and resonated throughout the room. His head snapped to the side, his eyes instantly watering from the force of the blow. “How dare you compare me to that mad man.”

He turned, gathering his bearings about him. His cheek glowed a rosy pink where she had slapped him and it faded slowly as he stared at her. “Pot meet kettle.” He sneered through clenched teeth.

The radio beeped twice again and she snatched it out of her pocket, barking into the microphone that she would be there shortly. The casing on the radio cracked as it contacted with the far wall of the room. Callista flew at him, stopping within inches of his face. Her eyes were ripe with fury as her face flushed red with anger. “You have no right to mock me, my work. I have given my entire life to this pursuit and I will see it through to the end. I guarantee that.” She exited the lab in a flurry of movement and the doors locked into place behind her. From his place in the chair, he was afforded the highest vantage point in the lab, giving him a front row seat to the flurry of activity below. 

He shifted against the metal bands securing him in place and felt a slight give in the steel. She had secured his hands across his chest to keep him from using his claws for anything, but she seemed to forget he was becoming adept at escaping complicated situations.

He gritted his teeth, bracing for the excruciating pain that would surely follow and yanked hard against his bindings. A loud pop sounded in his ears and fire rocketed up his arm as his shoulder dislocated.


	39. The Blackness of Devotion

The technician sighed with relief when Callista appeared by his side, her normally rock solid composure fractured slightly. Her carefully arranged hair was sticking up in a few areas and she appeared to be breathing heavily. “Everything okay, sir?”

She reached past him, flipping a few switches and studying them carefully, ignoring his question. “Status?”

Knowing it was safer to leave his observations unspoken, he dipped his head to study the readings himself. “Both subjects are ready for the procedure to commence. Systems are also ready for the transfer to begin.”

She caught a glimpse of herself on the screen and lifted her hands to restore order to her hair. “Begin when I give my mark.”

His fingers hovered over the dull orange button. “On your mark.”

“Mark.”

The quiet click of the button was heard throughout the lab before a surge of energy flowed through the wires surrounding Amy and Jean. Both women screamed, their voices joining together in pain.

“So much for ‘you won’t feel a thing’.” He thought as he rubbed his hand over his replaced shoulder and heard a soft cracking as his bones settled back into place. He swore that it was getting more painful the more he did it, instead of easier as everyone else in the world was led to believe.

The gauges in front of him beeped loudly and his eyes swept over them, searching for a kill switch. “Of course, it would never be that easy. It just couldn’t be like in the movies, could it?”

A single sheet of paper caught his attention and he plucked it off the steel gray desk. His eyes raced over the page, scanning the words that were printed on the sheet. “Oh my god.” The words on the slip of paper sunk in, sitting heavily in his stomach and leaving a vile taste in his mouth.

The sound of a generator turning on drew his eyes away from the paper and down to the lab below that was awash in a brilliant display of colors. Had it been any other time, he would have simply stood and admired the vivid hues that Jean was giving off but this was no time for dalliances. 

Sure that everyone’s attention would be focused wholly on the events in front of them; he dropped the paper. Unsheathing his claws, he punched the wall panel for the door lock, shorting out its circuits. The door pried open easily then and he quietly picked his way down the hall.

She studied the readouts before her, satisfied with the current output. “Raise the levels to four point three and remain there for five minutes.” She watched the events occurring behind the thick glass in front of her. After the last fiasco, she had Amy modify the existing lab here to her specifications. 

There was no longer a need for cool suits as any heat generated was contained to the room behind the glass. Any extraneous runoff was dissipated through the heat terminals in the ceiling and circulated throughout the rest of the complex. Why waste the energy heating the base when you had a mutant who could do it for you?

“Levels approaching critical, sir.”

“Good. Maintain this level and give me readings at five minute intervals. We need constant monitoring while the exchange is occurring.” She tapped her finger on the metal in front of her and cast her eyes upward to the room where she had left Logan. She had plans for him when she was done with the transfer. 

The room was plunged into darkness and the whirring of the machines halted. Panicked, she spun around. “What happened? Why did we lose power?”

Her technicians yelled, frantically searching for a source of the blackout. 

Logan smiled in the darkness. It would provide cover for him and he was going to take every advantage of it.

“What happened?”

“Green team reports a massive fire at the tanks. They’re trying to get it under control but it short circuited the main power panel before they could stop it.”

“Well tell them to get a move on it.”

“They are sir, but a group of mutants are impeding their progress.”

She swung around then, eyeing the glass to the control room. Panic rode worry in her voice when she spoke again. “Find out who is closest to the control room and tell them to go in and sedate the prisoner.”

The call came moments later confirming her worst fears. “The prisoner is gone.”

“Get the jet and have it ready to go.” She threw back over her shoulder as she depressed the keys for the code lock on the chambers. She fumbled the second lock the first time and ordered herself to relax. Both locks popped open the next time she tried and both women collapsed to the floor.

She supported Jean’s unconscious form with one hand and pulled furiously at the IV lines with the other. Amy’s cough caught her attention and she reached over to withdraw her fluid lines as well.

“Find Wolverine. Stop him. Whatever it takes.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take her to the jet, meet me there when you disposed of him.”

“Will you wait for me?”

“Yes.” The hesitation was obvious however, and Amy didn’t miss it. She had no intention of waiting for her at all. 

“Move!” Her sister’s voice split her thoughts and she moved out of the main lab without hesitation.

She briefly wondered why she did anything her sister ordered, regardless of the consequences. Why she was so loyal. Her fingers flexed in front of her face as she walked, the emergency lighting casting an eerie glow over everything. Ah, that was why. Her sister gave her extended life. Made her the woman she was today; further enhanced the abilities she possessed and made her stronger.

Yes, that was why she was so devoted.


	40. Frailty

Cautiously, he approached the sprawled out body that lay in the middle of the hall. He couldn’t tell from this distance if they were still alive and breathing. With a soft whisper, his claws extracted through his skin as a precautionary measure.

A sharp crack from behind him distracted him momentarily and the knife was embedded in his thigh before he could pick it out of midair. 

She kneeled, crouched in the center of the hall, her arm extended forward in a throwing position, her black coat spread out around her. Pushing up, she rose to her feet just as he dropped to one knee, a thick stream of blood soaking his pants.

Straining, he eased the blade from his skin and the silver handled throwing knife clattered to the floor as she approached. He winced and strained against the pain, the dull throbbing slowly faded as his healing factor sealed the wounds. Her feet faded in and out as his vision grayed from the blood loss and she leaned over, genially lifting the sharp blade with her fingertips. She examined if for a moment, seemingly fascinated by the red, congealing liquid that surrounded the blade.

“Funny, you bleed like everyone else. I expected something else with all that I kept hearing about how perfect you are.” Purposefully, she wiped the knife over the fabric of her coat, eradicating all traces of his blood. She lifted the long sleeve of her right arm and slid the blade into its casing on her forearm.

Wincing, he lifted himself off the floor and stretched, his body already fully healed.

“Now that’s better. Puts us on a level playing field, don’t you think?” she asked.

Contempt for her flowed freely inside of him, merging with the anger he felt towards her snake of a sister. “What do you know about fair?” 

Her foot flashed out, catching him squarely in the jaw. Bone crunched as his head snapped to the side. “You’re right, I don’t.” Her foot spun up again but this time he was prepared for it and caught it in midair. 

He twisted it hard and she spun her body in the air to avoid the inevitable break that would occur if she had not moved with the motion. She fell to the ground with a bone jarring thud and felt the air being driven from of her lungs.

Concerned with getting air, she narrowly avoided his claws as they whizzed past her head. Panting, she rolled herself a few feet from him and pushed herself vertical. “Pardon me while I get comfortable.”

The long black coat she wore fell to the ground in a mass around her feet. Slick cobalt blue leather encased her legs, curving up in a corset style bodice that secured around her neck. Silver glinted at her right wrist and left ankle, a small stack of throwing knives in holsters buckled to them.

He coughed a thin trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and he spit, hoping to erase the taste of copper from his mouth. Wiping a forearm across his mouth, he left only a pink tinge from the blood. “Damn, now I feel overdressed.” He sneered.

The knives were in her hands and hurtling toward him before he even registered them. He dodged quickly and heard the thunk of the blades embedding themselves in the wall behind him. By the time he turned, she was in front of him, her foot planting itself in his abdomen and sending him flying backwards.

He contacted with the wall and his vision was tinged with black. His hands instantly lifted to catch her foot again in midair. She scowled; annoyed that he kept blocking her favorite move. His hand shot out and hit her in the back just above her kidney. Pain shot through her, doubling her over and he released his grip, letting her crumble to the floor.

“Where is she?” Adrenaline pumped furiously through him, draining him of coherent thought. His single-minded focus sure and clear to him. Find Jean and find her now.

Her leg shot out and she swept around, pulling his legs out from under him. His back cracked sharply on the concrete and his lungs burned as the air left them. Claws shot out of his hands and he blindly swiped across, hoping that with luck, he would catch her off guard.

She cried out in shock as the tip of one of them caught her across the cheek before metal clanked against metal. They pushed together, her knife and his claws locked together as they both levered against the other, rising to stand. 

He waited, watched for the signs he was so familiar with. The darkening of the blood as it dried, the skin healing over. His suspicions were confirmed within a few seconds when nothing happened. 

Callista had succeeded. 

Confusion darkened Amy’s face as she too waited for the slice on her face to heal. This couldn’t be right. She was supposed to mend. Callista had ensured it years ago; guaranteeing their path to carry out their plans. Sure, her healing mutation was slow, no where as swift as Wolverine’s but eventually she would heal. A simple nick on her cheek should heal within seconds. What was happening to her, why wasn't she healing?

Seeing she was distracted as she lifted her free fingers to her bloody face, he knew it was now or never. His other hand shot out towards her, claws extended and he felt the give of flesh as she screamed.

The blade she held clutched tightly in her hand rattled to the floor in shock and she clamped both of her hands around his wrists. She began searching for her power, trying to imprint the echo of her onto him to force him to withdraw his claws but she turned up empty handed. 

She was still struggling to establish a connection, fighting to find the mutation that had inexplicability vanished when he realized she had left herself open. Three more sheathes of adamantium imbedded itself into flesh, ripping through blood vessels and shredding arteries. 

Death blood, black and inky, spilled over his hands and forearms. Her grip on his arms instantly released. The claws slipped back into his forearms and he caught her around the waist in an effort to keep her from keeling over backwards.

“Tell me where she took her.” He spoke calmly even though he was screaming inside to find Jean.

Her breath hissed out in a forced breath and the light was quickly fading in her eyes. There wouldn’t be much time left, he needed to stop Callista now. 

“Where is she?” His tightly held calmness slipped and he screamed his way through her fading mind, frantic that he was going to have to tear this place apart if he didn’t get an answer.

“Callista loved you, you know.” Her voice was forced and he could see it was a struggle for her to talk. Her weight shifted and he changed his grip, lowering her to the floor so he wouldn’t drop her from the blood covering his hands. “In her own twisted way, she loved you or the idea of you at least.”

He nodded. He was counting on that fact because it was the one thing he hoped was keeping Jean alive. She knew he would come find her.

“She lied to you. Told you what you wanted to hear because it suited her. Was out to make herself the victim to manipulate everyone. She even lied to me, her own flesh and blood.” Bile rose in her throat and she fought it back, swallowing hard. Her vision blurred to black and clicked into sharp focus as another wave of nausea washed over her. “Stryker worked for her, not the other way around.”

“What?” Her words hit him hard and disbelief flooded the pit of his stomach as his chest constricted at this new bit of information.

She rolled her eyes, an immense effort on her part considering. “Where do you think Stryker had the alterations done on Jason? It would take a skilled scientist for that kind of work, not some over the hill hack.” She coughed twice, gripping her arms tightly around her punctured midsection. “I bankrolled his military forces. Stryker would have floundered into obscurity if we hadn’t of come along.” 

Her heart hammered painfully in her chest as it struggled to obtain the oxygen rich blood it craved, the same blood that was pouring through the slices in her abdomen. She felt a slow burning move into her chest and she knew she was going to drown in her own fluids.

Blackness crept into her vision and he saw her eyes glass over as she went blind. Her back muscles strained and fought for their share of the blood remaining in her as she arched off the floor as absolution neared.

“Please, help me. I never meant for any of this to go this far. I just wanted to help.” Her vocal chords strained, the words barely forming with the last air she could push through her lungs. 

Even though she couldn’t see him, he wanted to guarantee that she would be able to understand him as her life began slipping from her. “Can you hear me?”

With immense effort, she moved her head to show that she could indeed.

Making sure he did not contact her skin, he stood, rising over her to stare down at her dying form. “Good. Save me a seat in hell.” He stepped over her as her body relaxed into death.


	41. When All Else Fails – Goad Them

He turned a corner, searching for some sign that he was headed in the right direction as he made his way down the hall. Cursing, he stopped himself before running his gore covered hands over his head in frustration. He didn’t even know where to begin. Tearing this place apart could take hours and would push even the limits of his patience He battled internally with himself, determined to find Jean at all costs but not even sure where to start. He wanted to rip at the walls, destroy everything he saw just so it would mean he had left no stone unturned.

“Logan.” The Professor’s voice broke through his panic and steered him toward where they stood waiting.

Emma nose crinkled in distaste as he turned the corner. “Isn’t that attractive?”

“Shove it, Emma.” He grimaced as he caught sight of his hands and silently agreed with her. Couldn’t tell her that though.

“Where is she?” 

“I don’t know.”

Scott was in his face before he finished speaking, his hands clenching tightly at the collar of Logan’s shirt as he pushed him up against the wall. Logan could see his eyes narrow through the ruby lenses of his visor. “Bullshit. Stop your self righteous hero crap Logan and tell me where she is.” 

His own eyes narrowed to meet Scott’s stare. “If I knew, don’t you think I’d be there right now instead of staring at your ugly mug?”

They stared each other down, daring each other to even so much as twitch. It would be all the excuse either of them would need to lay the other flat out.

“Can we please reign in the overload of testosterone?” Emma placed a hand on each of their chests and forcefully pushed them away from each other. “Both of you are acting like spoiled little boys who’ve lost their most prized possession.” 

“Emma’s right, we’ll find them both faster if we work together and spread out. Ororo, Hank, take the west wing. Scott, you’re with me. Emma and Logan will take the south wing.” Xavier turned, effectively ending any protests that could be made about splitting up.

“Looks like it’s me and you, blondie.”

Scott scowled at Logan and stormed off, following the fading sounds of the professor’s wheelchair.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why?”

“It pisses me off.”

“All the more reason.”

She was the one who scowled now and spun off in the opposite direction. Reluctantly he followed her, easily catching up to the sound of her tapping heels.

“He still loves her.” She muttered under her breath, shaking her head back and forth as they made their way down the hall.

“That pisses you off too, doesn’t it?”

She said nothing, seemingly disinterested in examining the empty room she had just opened. Finding nothing, she firmly closed the door behind her. “Empty.”

“Here too,” He said as he closed a door behind him. It wasn’t that he was expecting to find Callista and Jean behind a door like some game show gone wrong; but checking things out thoroughly was something the Professor insisted on.

They quietly examined the rest of the rooms on this hall and met back where they had first started. “This is useless,” She huffed, resting her hands on her hips.

He held up hands and lifted his shoulders in unison. “Don’t look at me. Seems to me though, one of the most powerful telepaths in the world – supposedly – is standing right in front of me. I would think one simple brain scan would answer all our problems.”

Skeptical, her eyes narrowed to thin slits. “You don’t think I can find them, do you?”

Casually, he leaned back against the steel wall behind him. “Well, you really have no reason to help find Jean in the first place. I mean, with her gone and out of the picture, you’ve just secured your place in Scott’s puny heart. That just guarantees you get to keep him.”

“This coming from her current lover?” She crossed her arms now, certain he was feeding her a load of crap.

“I may be a hothead when it comes to certain things, but I know when enough’s enough. A guy can only take a woman dying on him so many times. You even said it yourself; we’re getting nowhere. I’m ready to call it a day, how about you?” He pushed off the wall and brushed past her to make his way down the darkened corridor.

“They’re headed for the elevator on the far side of the mountain. Callista has a plane waiting for her at the east runway.” She started to stalk past him, but astonished him by coming to a halt directly in front of him. “Next time, don’t lay it on so thick, liar.”

He smiled. “Whatever you say – blondie.”

She rolled her eyes and he grabbed her arm, pulling her into a run after him. “You going to be able to run fast?”

“Of course, why?”

“I always wondered how you women run in those damn three inch heels.”


	42. Eliminate the Source

“Scott, Emma’s just let me know that they believe Callista is headed toward the runway we saw when we flew over.”

“Then let’s go.”

“I believe we will be much better served if you met up with the others. The five of you will be much better without me slowing you down.”

Scott nodded in agreement.

He met up with the others a few moments later. “You could have saved us all a lot of trouble if you would have just done that earlier, Emma.”

She frowned. “I’m aware of that.”

“Then why didn’t you?” His words were met by her silence.

“I think it is time to get to the matter at hand.” Hank said pointedly.

“You two can sit here and argue all day for all I care.” Logan said as he spun on his heel and disappeared around the corner.

The rest of the team quickly caught up with him, their eyes scanning the halls as they made their way down them. A loud crash had them pulling to a stop and Logan pointed Hank and Ororo in one direction while he signaled he would go in the opposite one.

“Dammit Logan, I’m the team leader here.”

“Then act like it,” He hissed as he dipped back into the shadows as the sound of feet grew louder.

A group of five men dressed in dark fatigues passed by, intent on some purpose known only to themselves. 

Scott heard the soft snikt of Logan engaging his claws and swore. The man was going to get them all killed. He tried to signal to Logan but he sprang from his hiding place into the center of the pack of soldiers.

Hand on his visor, Scott stepped out the shadows himself and lifted the ruby crystal shield from its resting place. The beam shot forward, hitting the solider in front of him directly in the back. Effortlessly, he stepped over the body, prepared to shoot again if necessary. 

The solider on his right crumpled to the ground, clutching his head and screaming in agony. Emma smiled from where she stood, hands on hips and looking as if she just walked off the cover of a magazine, not killed a man.

Hank vaulted up onto the back of another solider and flipped him backwards into a wall. The man fell to the ground, stunned, at least for the moment.

A swirl of wind lifted another solider off his feet and blew him into a plate glass window a few feet away. 

The last of the soldiers fell to the floor with a loud thud, clutching at his throat. Bright red blood seeped through his fingers and the quiet snap of metal retracting was the only sound left.

Scott jerked his head to the side and the six of them continued on their mission.

They grew frustrated as they turned corner after corner, finding nothing. Too seemingly lost in a maze to even begin to guess if they were moving in the right direction.

“What is this place?” Ororo questioned as they turned another corner and found a long hallway in front of them.

“I don’t know, nothing looks familiar. Logan?” 

“No. We’re not walking in circles. Has to be a pretty intricate network of tunnels and hallways. She had plans to rid the place of mutants, but what this place has to do with that, I don’t have a clue.”

The four of them stopped cold and stared at Logan’s back. Hank reached forward and turned Logan to face all of them. “I thought she was out to recreate the mutant genes and inject it into humans?”

Logan’s face was blank, but emotions swirled under the surface like a raging river. “Amazing what someone tells you when they have you captive and are sure their plans are full proof. Just like in the damn movies.”

“So what is she planning?”

“She was using her sister as her guinea pig. Through trial and error she was able to recreate the genes and began studying how to manipulate them. That’s how Stryker got his serum. When he failed, she began studying how to eliminate the mutant gene altogether in someone who already was a mutant.”

“A mutant cure?”

“No. She wanted to create a super gene that would destroy the cells, in effect, killing the mutant who hosted the genes. Mass genocide at its finest. Jean’s second mutation was the trigger she needed for her research. She’s not out to give humans a level ground. She’s out to eliminate mutants completely.”

“Then why does she still need Jean if she has what she needs to fabricate her super genes?”

“She doesn’t know she succeeded. At least not yet,” He added flatly. 

Hank seemed to mull this new piece of information over for a few minutes before speaking. “Theory would dictate she needs a fresh supply of said mutant’s blood to generate her synthetic genes. Cryogenically freezing them may work, but with a fresh subject, why take the chance?”

“Exactly.” Logan turned, walking forward a few feet before abruptly stopping. “This hallway’s different.”

They all nodded in agreement and cautiously proceeded forward. Caution was not on their side however, when Hank heard the soft snap of a trip wire; setting off a blaring alarm screaming through the corridor. 

“Shit.” Without direction, they all began running down the long corridor, an emergency elevator shaft at the end their goal. The doors parted as they approached, raising their hesitancy at entering the small compartment.

Scott reached down, his finger pressing in the hold button to allow them all to enter the confined area. His other hand lifted, resting lightly against the side of his visor in preparation for any trouble. Just as Logan hesitantly began to step forward towards the elevator, he stopped, his eyes scanning the empty hall around him.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Logan, we don’t have time for your-“ Scott’s words were cut off as Logan planted a foot in his chest and he went flying backwards. Logan coolly depressed the button for the top floor and prayed the doors would slide closed in time. 

“Logan, no!” Ororo screamed at him as the doors closed, sealing him within the confines of the steel cage. The mechanisms to lift the car engaged and he felt the elevator begin to rise.

Three floors later, the doors opened and he cautiously stepped out from between the heavy steel doors. A dark shape lay in the hallway in front of him and stepped forward gingerly until he realized it was Jean.

He came upon her inert form and mentally reminded himself to move carefully, lest this be a trap. Her hand was still in his, her fingers not coming around to clutch against his when he touched her. Her flesh was icy and lifeless. His warm fingers prodded gently but he could find no trace of a pulse. 

Were it possible, his heart would have stopped dead midbeat. He was too late. For all his promising, all his words of faith, they had proved empty and hollow as he had failed her once again. The clicking of heels shattered his thoughts of mourning and his head lifted to find Callista standing proudly at the end of the long hallway. The smirk teasing up the corners of her mouth told him that she knew she had succeeded after all.

He rose, standing over Jean’s body and his fingers began alternately flexing and clenching.

“Lose something?” Delight carried on her voice and his claws popped immediately though the skin at her words. She turned just as he leapt forward and she slipped between the elevator doors just as they closed and he reached them.

Adamantium uselessly slid into steel and his voice roared in hatred for missing his chance. He withdrew his claws from the doors and immediately headed to the right, throwing himself up the flight of stairs.

Daylight exploded in his eyes as he burst through the exit door. Jeep taillights faded in the distance away from him and he realized she must have had a car waiting for her at the top of the elevator shaft.

Without thought, without care for consequence or action, he blindly ran after the vehicle. He vowed he would not stop until he caught her, tore her limb from limb and watched the life drain from her body.

He raced down the makeshift runway, knowing full well he’d never catch up to her; but he had to at least try.

The blast from the Harrier jet engines pushed down around him and he spread his legs wide to brace against the blast of heated air. The jet effortlessly lifted up and he was able to catch one last fleeting glance of Callista as she turned the jet around and easily slipped over the ridge of mountains that surrounded them. 

He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him and saw the rest of the team running towards him. His head shook in annoyance and everyone fell out of the run. There were all beside him a few moments later.

They had missed her, dammit.

“Where is she going?”

He cut his eyes to Scott. “Off to fly with the fairies? How the hell should I know?”

“You seemed to know everything else about her.”

“It’s not always that cut and dried Scott.” The use of his name was enough for Scott to know that Logan was telling the truth. 

Fatigue weighed heavily on Logan and the last few weeks seemed to finally start to catch up with him. But there was something they all needed to do. “Jean’s down in the compound still.”

“Is she alive?” The question hung heavy in the air between all of them and he turned his back to the group without saying a word.

“Here we go again.” Everyone turned at the sound of Emma’s voice and stared at her in disbelief. “C’mon people, how much more of this crap can you honestly take? We’re better off without her and you all know it.”

No one moved. They seemed rooted to the spot listening to the stream of vile words coming from Emma’s mouth.

“You’re pathetic, the whole lot of you. Especially him.” She waved her hand in Scott’s direction. “Pining away for her like some hormone riddled teenager who just got dumped by the homecoming queen. And you.” She snorted, turning to face Logan and glare at him as a shock of white blonde hair fell over her eyes. “Turning into a lump of stupidity the moment there’s the barest hint that she’s around.” She sneered at the both of them in contempt. “Just like men, letting their dicks lead them around instead of their brains. Angelica has the right idea.”

Storm stepped forward and gently put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Emma.” She willed her to stop; end this tirade that had started spewing from her. They all felt sick with her words but knew, deep down inside, that Emma had every right to be so angry.

Emma brushed away the hand that came up. “No, no. I will not shut up. I’ve kept quiet long enough and I’m tired of HER always running the show. Even from the grave. She had these two eating out of the palm of her hand. If Callista hadn’t of killed her, I would have done it myself.”

Something snapped inside of Logan and his hand was around Emma’s throat before anyone could blink. Her back contacted sharply with the rock of the mountain and both of them could hear the protests from their teammates.

“Someone should really take the time to teach you some manners, blondie.” He sneered, not caring anymore about formalities and team loyalty. “Careful what you say, I could snap your windpipe with a flick of my wrist.” 

Her eyes lightened, the delicate powder blue flashing to ice in seconds. Her skin began changing under his hand, the porcelain ivory becoming like liquid silver. He kept his hand firmly in place though as the color spread over her entire body.

“Go ahead and try.” She vehemently whispered, daring him to follow through with his threat. Her chin lifted in defiance all but begging him to squeeze even just a millimeter. She had been aching for a fight with him ever since he had brought Ms. Goody Two Shoes back from the dead. “Go ahead Logan, squeeze and be rid of me once and for all.”

She was goading him and he knew it, but it was taking all his restraint to not squeeze hard despite the diamond glass appearance of her skin. Apparently, this second mutation ran deeper than any of them thought. His brown eyes were searching and she could see him debating. 

Just what was it going to take to make him fall?

An idea came to her and the landscape around the two of them disappeared. The mountain at her back was replaced with beige walls. Furniture appeared from no where and daylight was replaced by candlelight. Her skin was ivory once more and a white teddy replaced her standard white leather uniform.

Her legs lifted, wrapping around him to pull him closer to her. She settled him between her legs and ground her hips hard against him. “I’d forgotten you like it rough, Logan. Rough and kinky.” Her hands lifted and her skin was cold against his heated flesh. She tightened her fingers over his and felt her breath cut off. 

“Harder.” She whispered and tightened both of their hands over her throat. 

He cursed when common sense dragged him back to reality and he wrenched his hand from her grip. Instantly they were back on the runway. The diamond shine began fading from her skin and a sly smile spread over her lips. 

He stormed away then, fighting his way through the team who were all standing there in disbelief. They watched him stalk across the tarmac and disappear through the exit door that would take him to the elevator. They all began filing away one by one, following Logan down to retrieve the body of their fallen teammate.

Scott began to follow but retreated after a few paces. He stared at Emma, looking for some sign that it had all just been the stress of the situation that had lead to her outburst. He could find none. Hope danced in her eyes though, a wish that he could push aside all of the terrible things that she had just said; to know that she was right in her words.

“You’re going to be disappointed if you think I’m going to forgive you.”

Her chin lifted in the air, defiant to the last. “I don’t expect anything. But what I said was the truth; no one else was willing to say it.”

His head shook and he found himself backing up a few inches from her. She was not the woman he thought that he had been in love with. “No, Emma. Jealousy is your demon to battle, not ours. In fact, it’s a better companion for you than I am.” He turned and slowly began walking away, following the rest of the team.

“Scott?” Her voice called out, panic fresh in her voice. Was he really going to leave her like this? She knew she had been too painfully honest but she was used to her mouth getting her into trouble.

He knew better though. Knew that contempt lay hidden under his name. He had just been to blind to it before. The door slammed behind him, symbolically closing her off to him and out of his life. 

He came upon the group a few minutes later; Jean was cradled lifelessly in Logan’s arms as he lifted her. Scott swallowed hard and stared for what seemed like hours at her body, wondering exactly how much more stupid he could have been. He had acted like a jackass weeks ago, demanding that she come back to him like his property. She had so rightly put him in his place. He’d been a fool.

Logan walked forward and paused in front of Scott. The woman they both loved between them one last time. “I’m sorry.” Scott said, meaning it fully and knowing those words wouldn’t help but needing to say them anyway. 

Logan said nothing, only sneered as he brushed past him. Sure, Scott hadn’t been the one to cause the outburst from Emma, but he’d done nothing to stop it either.

Hank’s large hand came up and squeezed Scott’s shoulder in compassion. “We’ve all be through a lot here, it’s time to go. The Professor said he would bring the X-Jet around to the tarmac and pick us up there.” The team filed past him and Scott reluctantly followed, disheartened that there was nothing that he could do to help matters.

The heat the jet was giving off was intense as he stepped under the sleek aircraft to the ramp and sweat beaded on his brow as he stepped into the cockpit. Heat lifted in waves off the equipment inside of the jet and he dimly registered that something wasn’t right. Snapping his head around, he found Jean’s body lying on the floor of the craft, her entire body alit with a golden cast. The rest of the team stood well away from her, drenched with sweat from the heat, their feet rooted in place with shock. Logan knelt beside her, however, unafraid of the heat and light having experienced this before, whispering softly under his breath.

Perhaps Logan’s luck had changed after all.


	43. Standing on the Edge of Tomorrow

“Hey there.” He smiled down at her, sliding his fingers into her curled hand that lay on top of the laboratory bed that she had been lying on since their return from Callista’s compound. “Welcome back.”

She blinked a few times to clear her vision and waited as his face came into focus. Certainly a welcome sight to wake up to. “Hey yourself.”

He helped guide her to a sitting position and held her steady while her head swam. Reaching over, he flipped off the heart-rate monitor, throwing the lab into a hushed silence. Casually, he settled his hands on either side of her legs, pressing against the metal underneath her. Relief had him sighing heavily to himself in silent gratitude.

Bits and pieces of images replayed in her mind, too incomprehensible to form a complete and coherent series of events. One thing remained for certain though. “She got away, didn’t she?”

He thought back to when he stood on the tarmac, staring up at the Harrier jet as it took off vertically. “Yeah,” he replied quietly, disappointed with his own failure.

The lab doors swished open and the professor glided in followed by Hank. “Jean, you’re awake. Good – this concerns you as well. Hank?”

The small television set in the room clicked to life, powered on by the remote Hank was holding. A breaking news report scrolled across the bottom of the screen while jerky images of a city in utter chaos swept by.

The reporters booming baritone filled the room as he spoke. “Downtown Chicago has been declared a disaster area and police are strictly enforcing the five pm curfew for all residents. They are advising residents to remain inside their homes to allow clean up crews to begin their efforts.”

It couldn’t be.

“For those of you just joining us, downtown Chicago has been declared a disaster area because of a mass attack on the mutants in the city. Police are encouraging non-mutants to remain in their homes to allow clean up crews to begin to rid the streets of the thousands of bodies littering them. Elisa, back to you in the studio.”

Realization and understanding dropped like a lead weight in his stomach. “Callista.”

The television snapped off and the Professor guided his wheelchair to them. “Yes. I’ve tried to contact Bishop but my attempts have proved unsuccessful. When I spoke to him a few days ago, he was headed there for a few days of downtime.”

“It’s my fault.”

The Professor waved away Logan’s words. “Scott is contacting the police chief to see if we can offer any assistance in the matter. Should he require help, I’d like for Ororo, Hank and Kurt to take the X-Jet-“

“No.” His face was hard, lined with fierce emotion as he spoke his objections. “I take full responsibility. I was the one that let her get away; no one else is going to clean up my mess. If I had stopped her none of this would have happened.”

“You made a choice, Logan. One that nobody has questioned or will question in the future. In my mind – it was the right decision.” Xavier nodded his head toward Jean. “While we are here to help stop humanity from destroying itself – we are also here to support each other, whatever the cost from those very same humans. Anyone else would have drawn the same conclusions, made the same choices that you did.”

“I’m not like everyone else.”

“No you aren’t. That’s why you made the choice you did. No one is faulting you for it.”

Reluctantly, Logan nodded in agreement.

“Besides, even if you had, someone else would have still carried out her plans. Cut one head off and another grows back and we would still be in the situation, minus one of our X-Men.” Jean’s head snapped up at hearing those words. 

Xavier drew away from the couple and began following Hank out of the lab. “I consider this matter closed now. If you will please excuse me, I want to see the others off.”

The lab doors closed with a soft whir and they were left in the silence. 

“I need to be alone right now, Logan.”

“Jean, I-“

Cutting him off by laying a gentle hand on his forearm, she smiled. “It’s okay. I just need a few minutes to myself. Five minutes, I promise. Meet me outside the main doors in five minutes. Please.” She added when worry began running in fine lines over his brow. 

He nodded, backing away to allow her to walk past him and out of the laboratory. 

She stood out on the terrace, watching the blazing horizon as the sun peeked its head over the horizon. It battled back the darkness cupping the Earth, waking the occupants of the planet up to a new day.

Daybreak brought a day that dawned fresh and carried with it new promise. A day where humans would wake and rise from their warm beds; hoping the day would bring fresh change. They would shuffle around in their stocking feet, robes pulled tightly around them as they made their addictive pots of caffeine. 

They would flip on their television sets and see that one of their own was spreading her own brand of change. Some would welcome it, joyously congratulating the woman for doing what they were thinking all along.

Some would be flippant, switching off the television with disinterest and continuing on about their morning. Others would rally for the woman to bring her cleansing to their town, convinced that the world would be a much better place were there no mutants.

The country was not even aware that it stood on the cusp of a civil war. 

She could see a conflict where there would be no winner. Both sides losing millions as the battle raged for years upon years. Callista would have to be stopped; there was no question about it. How they would stop her was a question that remained yet to be answered. 

History showed, though, that humanity was, after all, its own worst enemy.

The horrible visions faded from her mind as she felt him press up against her. She smiled warmly; glad to be rid of the dreadful emotions that overtook her when she thought about the consequences of Callista’s actions. Of her own.

She squinted against the bright sunlight that washed over the both of them now, the sun completing its morning ritual. “Beautiful sunrise, wasn’t it?”

He pushed her hair aside and pressed his lips against the curve of her neck where the chain from her necklace rested. “I’ll take your word for it.” A flood of chills raced over her skin and she shivered against it even as the laugh tickled her throat. 

The noise of the X-Jet roared overhead and they both watched as it raced off to the horizon, headed for a city torn by violence. Those on the jet faced a daunting task and she quietly wished she could be there with them.

After all, she was the reason most of this was happening in the first place. 

He could feel it in her body, knew she was eager to be part of the fight. He wished he could himself but understood the Professor’s reasons, even if he didn’t agree with them completely. 

There was something that she had been wondering since their time at the cabin but had never gotten a chance to ask him. “Should I start calling you James now?”

“No.” He answered without hesitation, without even the barest of thoughts, telling her that there had never been a choice for him to be called something else. “That’s not me, not who I am. It’s not my life. I may not know a hell of a lot about Logan, but it’s a hell of a lot more than I know about James. There was a time when I was afraid to close my eyes; God only knows what was behind them. That time is gone. ”

“Okay.” She smiled at the sunrise, happy that even though he now had the knowledge he had been seeking for so many years, he wasn’t about to change himself. 

“My turn. Would you do it again?”

“Show you who you were, what you had been searching for for such a long time?” 

“No.”

Puzzled, she turned, facing him. “Do what then?”

“Walk off the plane.”

She paused, thinking about it for a few minutes, her eyes staring blankly at his shirt while she mulled over his question. “Yes,” She said finally, sighing heavily as speaking that one word. “Yes, I would. I’d do it all over again, every minute of it. The choices we make cause us to grow; they make us who we are today. You know who you are now because of what I did that day; I did that for you. I wouldn’t change it and steal that knowledge from you. I’ll figure out what’s going on with me, whatever it takes. And I’ll know, years from now, that I’ll be the woman I am because of that choice to walk off the plane. The choice to find you. To eventually have the opportunity to unlock secrets that plagued you for so long. ”

“I know something I’ll look back on.”

Sure he was going to amuse her with his usual brand of humor, she replied simply. “What?” 

“You’re here.”

“I am, aren’t I?” She smiled in confirmation and hugged him to her; her hands wrapping around his waist to clasp around his back.

He wrapped his own arms around her and pulled her close, realizing that he too would have it no other way. The Professor was right, as he usually was. He had made a choice, right or wrong. They would all deal with the consequences that stood before them.

Together.

“I suppose we should make the best of us having to stick around here. Want to go break in your new uniform in the Danger Room?”

Her hand lowered, slipping into the back pocket of his jeans. “I can think of a better way to make the best of having to stick around here.” 

He shifted, pulling her mouth up to his. “Pervert.” 

[end]


End file.
